


Into the Badlands

by NoNomDePlume



Category: My Chemical Romance, The Used
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Anal Sex, Blood and Gore, Character Death, Graphic Description of Corpses, M/M, Mental Instability, Sexual Content, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:40:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22546432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoNomDePlume/pseuds/NoNomDePlume
Summary: Perfect, the word to describe the condition of a broken world. The Part that was validated and seen fits the description in every way. But to others the world was harsh, cruel, and unforgiving. The slums were oppressed and the greys were wrongfully destroyed. Frank Iero fell into the forgiving part of the spectrum, living his life blissfully ignorant, a white and an upper class-man. But then all that changes, with eyes open wide there was no going back. When everything collapses around him, the fate of the world may hang in the balance.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Jepha Howard/Frank Iero
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	1. Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

> The whole story was inspired by several different songs. This chapter was inspired by the song Sacrifice by Zella Day.

_"I will find you in a burning sky_  
_Where the ashes rain in your mind_  
_Ohh, ohh, sacrifice."_

**Sacrifice by Zella Day**

*

It was a fever dream, that is for certain.

Because when Frank fell asleep in his bed late at night after yet again crawling his way out from in between his parents gaze to visit the grave of a boy he'd once love, he did not lost consciousness in his bed with a calm and serene mind. And although the grey sand beneath his feet where he found himself buried not three seconds ago was not expected, it was still, to put it simply not unexpected either.

He sat upright with surprisingly incredible force feeling like his chest was weight down by a ton of concrete slab perfectly invisible to the human eyes and all-encompassing to cover the surface of his built. He couldn't breathe and he found himself coughing and hacking up grey dusts that spilled from in between his lips and floated to the equally grey sky. In front of him is a fuzzy vision of something akin to a city, or maybe it is in fact one. And he wanted nothing more to investigate the shrouded skyline.

Brushing himself off of the sand that covered his body, he started walking towards the foggy distance. He was drawn to the beam of blue light that cascaded through the air and into the atmosphere above in one continuous line. He swiped his hands through the air as if he could swat the smog away and it didn't completely fail when his vision blurred into a clear picture of a broken down metropolitan city, barren of any sort of life whatsoever.

The perspiration gathering around his throat was constricting, so he relieved some of it's pressure by gulping down his heart that climbed it's way up that high. With uncertain courage he started walking, his toes sinking down into the mounds of sand that appeared to have gathered itself all around the city tarmac. He'll take it than the course rough and heavy dried black tar that was no doubt the other option.

As he came closer to the edge of the city, he could see clearly now the source of the light. And odd misshapen being hovering dark and tiny on top of the highest skyscraper that was located in the middle of the city. Without words or any pondering he knew he had to go there, that his body is drawn in this shapeless dream of his to the equally shapeless mass further ahead of him.

On his way to the source, he'd found that indeed the whole city was completely empty of life, not even a fly in sight. There were clothes left in various spots throughout the city, cars still running, traffic lights still shining either red yellow or green; like the patrons of this dark world had up and left, disappeared just like that. What interest him even more is that everything had a layer of dust covering it, like it's been there for decades but he knows it couldn't be so, somehow, he does. So, he find himself making up otherworldly scenarios of aliens and spaceship, at some point convincing himself the apocalypse had happened and humanity had up and relocated either to mars or to the center of the earth.

An odd dream within another odd dream. How fitting.

He walked in a straight line for what seems like miles and miles. He didn't feel cold or tired or any other compulsion that'll halt him in his track or temporary put his journey on hold. In the back of his mind he vaguely thought of this would be what it felt like to be in a hive mind. A single-minded blind focus on things that shouldn't be important to him in anyway shape of form. Risking blisters and literal cold feet to just stride across too far of a distance and get to his goal.

Looking to the left of him there were mazes of streets that if he stares long enough at then it'll start to blur around the edges. Traffic lights shining still through the clouded dust of the city air. Warped looking stop signs that melted and refroze some time ago. And few toys, phones, keys, trinkets that'll mean something to the everyday person. Something that they will never willingly left behind.

With all his mind worked and wired up, he found himself suddenly standing underneath the very skyscraper he was walking towards. Somehow looking familiar and inviting. Like he had spent all his life in this very building, going in and out it, all over and around it. Maybe sitting at the highest point the building has got to offer and looking down at the tiny mess of working people below. Loving the way the sorrow got to him. The smooth glass windows of the building glinting like the most expensive jewelry to his eyes.

Looking back he could see his footprints long and far, stretched out straight through the city and beyond the fog that covered the edge, a distance that he shouldn't have been able to cover in such a short amount of time. He looked back up only to see the sky has somehow gotten darker, all gloomy and dense like a huge storm was coming or had already did and this was the aftermath of the destruction. The clouds had gathered in various forms of angry ball of water and wind, barely containing the rage of the lightning inside. And somehow beyond it Frank could see the almost artificial looking atmosphere above it, like a slab of congealing color covered in smooth surface of glass.

Frank thought it looked quite beautiful and despite everything quite peaceful.

Silently he found his resolve in the sky, the corner of his eyes drawing his attention back to the beam of light that had a few clouds gathering around it. He shook his head, unfocused, and walk straight inside the building. The cold glass door opening up without resistance like he half thought it would. But of course, it didn't, this land of shadows is after all his. A place that abide by his rules and his decree is that nothing comes hard for him here.

So why does everything here is eating away at his soul bit by bit?

He ignored the pang of hurt in his heart at that thought, a feeling so distance it felt like it happened a long time ago. Or never before.

He chose to continue his way through the lobby of the building. A generic looking one that earily looked like a hotel his father owned, bringing him memories of childhood glee of someone who weren't quite in the know when it comes to privilege and the bountiful amount that they had. With each growing step he was certain that this place was familiar to him. Seeing the still working digital clock in the corner of the room only partly covered by dust. He found himself able to read the time as 20:37 and a mini digital date underneath that said a simple 03/22/2037. Continuing his way to the elevator, he somehow remembers to not go inside. Afraid for some reason, for it to not work. Instead he goes to the side of the lobby where the door to the emergency staircase was located.

He opened it and again, found everything empty except for the thin layered of dust that seems to have settled on to everything. Giving a dull spray to every vibrant color he came across since getting there. And it was quite a shame really, if it weren't for the fact that dust has settled over everywhere, then everything here would've felt like a dream. A childlike fantasy of colorful cities bursting at the seams with excitement. Instead here in lies art cover in drab like an all-encompassing blanket that no one needed or ask for. Such a small and thin thing that ruin the flow of the world. And isn't that what the world is? something beautiful covered with layered specs of dullness that could bring destruction even to the most sturdy of things.

His attention was grabbed by the staircase that he had to climb. Looking up to see squared up spaces that was calculated into spiraling perfection. Now, he thought, that this staircase was a thing of nightmares. The steps where the same shade of wilting yellow as the one that has permanently embedded itself inside his soul. The color of pale yellow to normal eyes and a color of dying breath to Frank. Something all too familiarly attached to a memory Frank would rather not think of right now or maybe ever again.

He braved himself into walking up the steps, half expecting to hear a sound like crunching bones or to accidentally step on a pool of blood that symbolizes his dirty handy work. He was hoping to have step onto a pool of water and slipped himself into unconsciousness in this dream so he could wake up safe in his bed. A poetic injustice that would be.

Just like his walk through the city, he found himself somehow at the very top of the skyscraper in just a blink of an eye. Looking down he half expected his feet to be covered in swells and blisters that had numbed him of the pain of overworking. But his feet were as normal as ever. And really what did he expect in this dream world of his? Pain. Maybe.

He took the last step to push himself through the threshold currently being guarded by a tall metal door that seems about right with everything around him. He briefly thought how odd it is for him to not encounter any doors that could have let him escape during his walk up the stairs prior to this. But that thought was wash away, as like any other rational thoughts someone would have in a dream.

The metal was cold and smooth to the touch, the feeling almost otherworldly perfect. He pushed with little effort and the door gave way with a loud monotonous creek that did not send shivers up Frank's spine the way he thought it would.

Walking out the door he found himself on the roof of the building. Facing what seems like an empty space safe for the hovering dark entity just right above it.

It felt weird, walking towards the thing one would think to fear the unknown. But walking closer and closer, Frank found himself feeling his completion just at the tip of his tongue. He walked a little bit closer and another layered through his heart was peeled off, this one of anger and bitterness. Coming even closer he found himself be in overwhelming pain, not one that is physical but a strong and powerful presence none the less. Inching just that bit closer he found himself in the center of all the emotion, off disappointment, grief, and sorrow. It was like all his hopes and dreams that he has accumulated throughout his lifetime was suddenly stripped thin off his body until there was only skeleton.

He didn't realize that he was crying until the first drip of water made itself known onto Frank's thighs. Didn't even realize that he was kneeling right under the spiraling darkness of misery.

He looked back towards the door like he did with the city and the stairs. He could almost saw the layers of aura encompassing this one spot. A gradation of all the negative emotions known to humanity, just congregating there for Frank to walk through.

He's shouting. He could feel his throat raw as the guttural scream ripped it's way through his throat, stripping it off it's protective layer until he could taste blood on the back of his tongue.

He felt done. He felt hopeless. The anguish inside of him felt to real for it to be a dream. Looking out he saw the entity above him cleared than he'd ever did.

He found himself staring at a floating body, broken up into fragments of ash and burnt flesh. Through it was a hole where the light beam was coming from. He could see now that the darkness and the cloud was caused by this one dark entity.

Training his eyes a little bit to the left he found himself staring at an all too familiar looking back of the head. The entity suddenly whipped it's head around and Frank came face first into seeing the face of the cause of the world's apocalypse. And an all too familiar reflection of honeyed colored hazel eyes stared back at him.

He woke up in bed sweating with his skin clinging to the now dirtied white sheets, still holding on to the last memory of the peculiar dream. Only ending up getting fragments of nightmarish memory stuck in his mind. He grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from his bedside table and wrote all he remembers. He then put it back on the bedside table only to finally look at the digital clock on his nightstand. He took the paper back in hand and scribbled the date from his mind, 03/22/2037. It was a weird gesture full of empty nothingness that he supposes was not important to the real world in any shape or form. But the numbers gripped his consciousness tight and won't let go without the release of writing it down. So, he did as he tack on the estranged piece of paper on the wall opposite to his bed. Stark white small piece of paper against stark white walls.

"Francis sweetheart, come down for dinner!" That was his mother, her voice sickeningly sweet for someone up this early in the morning.

"I'll be right down mom!" He shouted back just to give himself a few minutes to catch his breathe.

He looked around his room still expecting visions from his dream to jump out and covered his entire sight, but found nothing but his large carpeted bedroom. He only see his usual walk in closet in the corner where he forgot to close the door like he always do every night. He saw the blinds were now automatically drawn now he's awake and beyond it saw the acres of acres of land and garden he and his family owned. The corners of his king size bed was what caught his eyes next, it was disheveled and ruined from it's pristine look it had the night before and Frank jumped up to tidy it the best he could.

After all that was done he walked straight to his bathroom, his face was a full frontal assault blinking back at him through the wide mirror. He looked pallid, the dark and bruised bag located under his eyes stand starkly in contrast. His usually bouncy brown locks didn't curl the way it usually does around his shoulders. Instead it looked flaccid from being weight down with sweat that had gathered there through the night.

He suddenly was grossed out by his appearance and decided that a quick shower was long overdue. The first hit of heated water to his skin reminded him of the times he's spent on the tub, the warm temperature was too much of a comfort he didn't quite deserve. Without thinking about it he unconsciously found his hand twisting the temperature knob of the shower into cold. Too cold.

Other visions that haunted him besides his constant nightmare started appearing from behind his eyelids. He didn't know if the extra wetness on his cheeks was the result of the shower or because he was suddenly crying. But he didn't mind the extra swelling his tears brought to his eyes because he knew he deserve this.

The haunting nightmares. The cold dead beating of his heart.

He slid himself into a curling position on the tub, sobbing to his knees all the while. He plugged up the drain of the tub and the small space started to quickly fill with cold icy water. And on top of the wracking sobs, his teeth were chattering to the point that he thought he'd shatter them if he persists. He saw his breathe once he breathed out a particularly harsh sob or maybe that was just an illusion induced by his hypothermia addled brain. What he did know is that he cried into his arms, unconsciously scratching his body the way he did that day. Finding himself unable to wash away the blood that had seeped it’s way through his pores that did not belong to him, no matter how many beads of red liquid came up to the surface where his thin skin had broken. It'll drop to the body of water, tiny rivulets of copper blood that did nothing to wash of the dirt. The sorrow that has gripped his heart tight and squeezed.

And just like that day and the days after where he would do this. He did it all while seeing the ghost of someone he loved standing in the corner of the bathroom. Pitying. Judging. Eyes glazed over with something that looked like a memory of love. A dissipating memory.

*

"Smells delicious." He was dressed it the best attire he has, one silk threaded white crisp shirt and basic brown slacks that was softer than it looked, finding himself not in the mood to impress by wearing his new skirt. His shoes were tied and comfortable around the soles of his feet. His hair was brushed and done nicely, femininely where it brushed to the side.

"Thank you honey, have a seat." His family was all gathered around the huge ornate diner glass table, perfectly centered in the almost empty room being held up by marbled pillars that one would expect to fine in ancient greece. There were fresh pots of flowers with different and otherworldly cheerful colors staining their petals all strewn about on top of a pedestal that one would expect something like a trophy to sit there instead of such a disposable thing. Picture frames hang all around the room made out of sleek gold that probably cost more than a spleen. In it hand painted realistically drawn pictures of each member of the family. Posing in such a horrendously out dated style that even a medieval portrait would look more modern than it. And Frank felt glad to just look away and again focusing his attention on the table and his seat.

His big brother and little sister looking particularly cheery with the way that their faces are stretches to the side with how wide their smiles are. But that could just be because they are younger than their mother and father who would undoubtedly smile as large if it weren't for wrinkles starting to form on their faces. Frank never understood their happiness. How one with such air of superiority could even breathe let alone smile freely like they do. But he supposes that he's fell victim to smiling once or twice back when he felt safe and blissfully unaware of the dangers of the worlds and the ones within himself. Back when he knew who he was even if it weren't truly him fully.

The new addition to the table was not at all unexpected. Of course, they would be proud to invite his new current and beautifully rich betrothed, his boyfriend to the table. Frank didn't particularly hate his boyfriend per say, he's just not in love with him. Not the way he was in love with the other person he was seeing before his current betrothed. A far away fantasy where he could only hope that in another life, things would be different, happier.

He shook his head away of that thought. This is his life, what is to be expected of him. To continue the rich and pure Iero legacy and to marry someone of his stature and to bare that person's child in his womb. The thought of it still sends the hair on the back of his neck standing every time.

He still did not understand the whites body structure and what makes them different than the silvers. He was definitely male if what the thing he has between his legs has anything to say about it. But he did not want to think of the mechanics of his future birthing would go down. In the back of his mind he thought that if he had a choice, he would then never bare a child unless it's for someone he truly love. And that person was dead.

"Jepha."

Frank was startled out of his thoughts. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I said, Frank. I've been saying your name over again now sweetie." His mother said sickly sweet as always. "Could you please go and turn on the TV for us darling, turn it to the news channel. Thank you." She said as she continues to pass the food all around the table.

Frank stood up from his seat to go to the panel near the corner of the room where he punched in his mother’s orders. Not two seconds later the holographic TV the perched itself in the middle of the dining table turned on in a light blue futuristic fashion with this morning breaking news.

"This just in, another of the greys has been captured on counts of battery and larceny. They have been contained to the facility and would be executed immediately. And remember if you know a grey or if you are one, we advise you to turn yourself into the watchers’ program. So you and everyone you love could be safe. Now back to the…" The voice of the overly enthusiastic anchor news man continue to ring out during breakfast.

"It's horrible really, to be fated like that." His boyfriend, Jake suddenly piped up.

"Yes yes, but at last it's their own fault. If they didn't do the thing that they do to trigger their powers, they wouldn't be a grey in the first place." His father rebuttal, an air of pompous behavior coming in waves off of him.

That was the thing about greys, their powers have some sort of ironic twist to the sin that they've done. Frank knows, he could feel the tendrils of smoke leaking out through his hidden fingertips underneath the table at his father's words. He was darkness, he was destruction.

"Oh Frank sweetie you have got to stop spacing out like that." His mother said teasingly with a hint of faux sympathy. breaking through his thoughts once again.

"I'm sorry, I didn't sleep well last night." He said as an excuse, shoveling potatoes into his mouth in hopes that they'd drop the conversation. But of course they didn't.

"Oh, darling." His mother stretched her hands out to cover his on the table. "I know death could be tough, but you'd go through it." She said with practiced words.

Neither his parents nor his sibling has ever approved of Jepha. He was kind and sweet towards Frank and he was in fact biologically a silver, still though it didn't change the fact that he was from the slums. A world much different from his own upper class white gated community. His mother and father never outright disapprove of Frank's friendship with the boy for the most part. Of course that was that one instants of a sit down that led him to the worst the decision he has ever made in his life. But they never indicated that they knew about his and Jepha's secret romance and really, things would've gone sour a lot quicker if they had. But they never turned Jepha away really, only influencing Frank in doing so himself. It was clear that there was always an air of distrust and terse silence whenever Jepha came around and each day Frank was burden by his parent’s disapproval until the day he was spoken down to. The day where everything crumbled all around him. Sending him down a road where he could never return from the same again.

That burden that had eventually led to his former lover's death.


	2. Haunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by the song Haunting by Halsey

_"Cause I've done some things that I can't speak_   
_And I've tried to wash you away but you just won't leave."_

**Haunting by Halsey**

It was the first day of senior year where the silvers and whites from the upper east and lower east side was expected to mingle. Throw in a couple greys in there and now they've got Charaville, the best all-inclusive school in town.

Not.

The first thing that you'd notice when you step into the dull crowded hallway of the ever suffocating foundation where all children’s hopes and dreams comes to die, is that people will look at you differently depending on your status. Ironic, considering they have preached so much about what they don’t practice. And although the greys got the worst of it when it comes to this, the ones that came from the slums regardless of their biological status also isn't existing all too comfortably.

To think that the world said it was moving forward when it comes to the inclusion it needed. An outright inclusion of everyone and everything that breathes the same air – or so they say.   
It wasn't gone, it has increased maybe a hundred-fold since, it’s just well-hidden this time.

Frank Iero. One of the lucky bastards to have been born on the upper east side was a white. A person that could bear children regardless of their gender. It was a comfortable life that he lived in, full of clouded prejudice and dumb ignorance. Walking without thinking, over everyone else that was in his way, even when he didn’t mean too. He's just lived a spoiled and lavish life, always being chased and never chasing long enough to think that maybe all of this wasn’t normal. Blissfully ignorance to the tragedy that is the world. It all changed when he was in high school.

Everyone didn't look at him differently. Sure, some, not really important people who have been born into middle class viewed him in awe and respect that he didn't quite deserve, but that was to be expected. No he didn't feel the difference because he was not the one being look down upon like germ under a microscope.

One Jepha Howard was. A kid from the slums that despite his birthright of being a silver did not in fact received any sort of absolution from being outcasted like he did. A handful of the school, not as much as the upper class and certainly wasn't as small as the middle class was his kind though. So he took comfort in being the misfit of the school. Going to go as far as to be the leader of the rebels being thrown and disregarded to the sidelines.

He was a king dressed in rip jeans and unsanctioned school attire.

When he’s not dressed in it though, he dressed in all-encompassing black because, as he put it, it "Matches his soul." He does the best he can to walk the hallways of high school whilst standing tall and getting out by the end of the day unscathed. Of course, it was brutal, no matter how smart or how strong he gets, the far left still _hated_ him. And not just by the students by the faculties too. The ones who think being middle and up means you can't interact with the dogs in the slums. With their nose upturned in the air in disapproval they walk all over the boy struggling to find his footing.

Jepha pitied them. He may be shunned by the school's system but he runs the heart of the students, most of them anyways. The ones who mattered. The ones that he's sure he could get away a revolution with if he'd just gathered enough kids. With a picture of angry people with torches and pitchforks at hand painstakingly detailed in his mind. A cruel and beautiful fantasy indeed.

They were tough, cut throat, hard to handle. But most of all they were sweet and kind and understanding. Most of them even welcomed the greys with opened arms. Because despite their mistakes that undoubtedly eventually led to their DNA transformation, they were still human and they deserve to be treated as one. And humans above all else made mistakes. And the ones who do not felt that they have done any egregious acts throughout their lives are the ones who should be feared.

And Jepha knows this, he's grateful to not have the grey's genes running dormant in his blood, at least not to his knowledge. It's not like he could afford the blood test that screen their blood early on like the upperclassmen can. And the basic one the government gives them aren’t exactly reliable. He knows in his heart though, if the test were to be wrong, he wouldn’t be any different then who he is now. He was confident on that.

The upperclassmen always put up this front that none of them could be a grey. Because their kind, perfect genes wouldn't allowed it of them. But he knows, he's known people close enough that worked for the higher ups. Where they terminate babies, who have the grey genes early on. And of course, they cover all this up by adopting another child that doesn't have the genes to make up for their immorality. Each kill should've turned those bastards into grey if they had the genes, but it didn't. And Jepha thinks that at least there's some good that comes of that horrible act in the form of the adoptions, an inevitable second chance for someone who probably really needs it.

Then again, those kids would be raised as bastards, so he’s not sure if there is a silver lining.

But that is exactly why the upperclassmen shouldn't be in charge. They are destructive to this world and manipulative to everything that lives in it. None of the people from the lower or even middle class could hope to climb up that high because it's a rigged system. Not to mention the fact that they have a whole subspecies of human tied to a collared leash with a ticking time bomb that would go off if they did anything wrong. _Anything_. Whether it be stealing a loaf of bread (not even with using their powers) or accidentally hurting someone with their powers. The results are always the same, immediate termination. Not to mention the trackers that they have to use, that they planted on their necks, to watch their every move once it is found that they are in fact a grey.

Yeah. Jepha feels lucky.

He could just see the pompous white teeth of bleached blonde sharks smiling down at the people they govern, preaching words of world peace and safety precaution. Building up an empire through a false sense of fairness and reveling in the death and destruction behind the scenes.

They need a revolution and goddammit Jepha was gonna give them one.

He wanted to kill all those participating in the hierarchy. To burn them to a crisp so they won't regrow their branches and supplanted themselves to a new patch of land. He had come to hate each and every one of the upperclassmen. And if there were no harsh repercussion, he would’ve killed as much as he can by now.

That became his goal for a while. Justice based on hatred for the injustice. And he was find reveling in the thought of revenge. Fine with sticking it to the man. Fine with bulldozing the innocent, albeit naïve, people caught in the middle. Because he was angry, he was tired of everything that he’s been told to deal with all his life. Hating was a natural instinct for him at this point  
That is until he met one, Frank Iero.  
Sweet soft-spoken Iero. He liked to wear white skirts and silky blouses and sometimes he'd braid his shoulder length hair to the side. Frank caught Jepha's eyes right away.

The new freshman didn't radiate the same pompousness the other school goers did. Instead there was an air of obliviousness and childlike innocence hovering above his head like a halo. And Jepha knew, he had to get to him before the reality of his status inevitably catches up to him. And really maybe the small skip of his heart whenever he saw the boy was just and error of the human kind and he stuck to that reasoning as much as he could.

"Hi there." Jepha propped his elbows up on the locker door. Some people sneering at the gesture that had stained their perfectly clean lockers.

Frank closed his to look at the source of the voice that had startled him. "Yes?" He said questioningly, not an air of superiority and ulterior arrogance in his voice, just pure inquiry. A strand of hair fell and covered one of his eyes and Jepha found himself unconsciously brushing it away. A blush crept to Frank's face blooming in rose and peachy colors, but his questioning gaze remain.

Jepha choked on his next words, needing to clear his throat, finally now realizing he's gone stoic. "Oh, right – I know you're new so I was wondering if you wanna maybe hang out? - Like I don't know you or anything and...I don't know. There's just something about you that makes me want to know you." Really, for all that he’s talked about himself Jepha still didn’t think he had the balls to blurt all that out. But blurt he did.

And Frank had giggled, a sound so soft and innocent that clenched at Jepha's cold dead heart and actually resuscitated it beating twice as fast as before. And then Frank did the unpredictable by saying yes and running away abruptly. Leaving Jepha to fell into a puddle of his own previous resolute behavior.

That's how it started.

There was no point to their hang outs. It was just mindless fun for both of them. And although they attracted quite a lot of attention, it still felt right to be with each other.

Jepha's prediction was right, Frank was in fact oblivious to all the injustice. He didn't know that he had to hate the people not of his stature and he just found it nice to be with Jepha. Just Jepha. Not Jepha the slum dog. Not Jepha the future revolutionarian. Just Jepha.

And when the sunsets on their months’ worth of hang outs and the stars started to illuminate the sky, It was Frank who found the courage to lean in and stole a kiss from the other boy. It was Frank who first stated the quiet “I love you.” To the air between them before reclaiming Jepha’s lips again.

Once they parted Jepha can only stare at the beautiful boy in front of him. The one who's still got his eyes close cause he was afraid of the reaction he might get once he opened them. But Jepha blew the fears away with a breathless, "I love you too." and they continued kissing throughout the night.

That's when Jepha started to change his previous thoughts of massacre and revolution into one where he could merge these two worlds together. Like if Romeo and Juliet were a success and not a love story between two stupid teenagers that cost the lives of others.

He'd said this too Frank three months after their first kiss. They were both over at Jepha's reading graphic novels out loud with weird voices because they can and they love doing it. It was the first time Jepha had invited Frank into his home because he was afraid at first. But months of trust had led up to this and so Jepha opened his home up to his first boyfriend and was relieved when Frank didn't sneer in disgust and walk away. Instead he’d smiled and took things he saw impassively, like it's just another home. Because it was.

It was small but not too small. Sturdy but not luscious. Spacious for it's kind but cluttered full of a family's worth of junk strewn around everywhere. Memories running deep into the very foundation of the home.

"No no, the best smell in the world is the ocean." Frank had giggled, covering his face up with the book he was reading. His legs crossed on top of Jepha's on the bed.

Jepha plucked the book that covered Frank's face, a new graphic rendition of the old classic ‘ the catcher in the rye’. "No the smell of rain water is the best." He said, an air of finality to his voice.

"You mean acid water?" Frank rebutted, snatching the book back from Jepha's gripped as he laid down on his back to continue reading it.

"I mean petrichor. Lovely, lovely petrichor." Jepha said with light whimsy, his hands dancing in the light that shone through the window where soft pitter patters started to form. Jepha sat upright and pointed giddily at the window. "See it's raining, that means the world agrees."

"That's a coincidence Jepha, come on...plus with all this pollution I'm betting _this_ is acid rain." Frank crawled to plant himself on Jepha's lap, facing the other as he drew his arms behind the other's neck. "And you'd get burned if you go in it."

Jepha rolled his eyes but sniggered non the less. "Wow, I thought _I_ was supposed to be the cynical one here." He kissed the tips of Frank's nose.

"I'm not cynical!" Frank pushed Jepha by the shoulders, affronted by the idea but laughing lightly to show his nonchalance. "I'm just...educated."

"And I'm not?"

"Well I didn't say that..." Jepha turned them so that Frank was now lying on his back with Jepha in between his legs, his thighs covered in Jepha's favorite white skirt that Frank wore when they first met. "I just think the rain machine that they make can only help so much.”

Jepha shook his head. "Cynical, Iero." and leaned in to capture Frank's lips in a deep but soft kiss.

The kiss had grew to something quite heated after a while. Their bodies on top of each other just grinding hot and needy. Their shared breathes fogging up the small space of the room. And as the rain grew louder outside, the two teenagers grew louder inside as they make love for the first time. Frank feeling Jepha truly, deeply within himself. Two kids knowing love and wanting intimacy, finally finding it in each other. Their hearts palpitate to the sounds of their voices when that day, they grew as close as two human beings can ever be.  
And in that small moment, they knew what peace is.

*

The quite sneaking out and the friends Frank had invited over numerous times had caught the attention of his parents. They'd sat their middle child down during one of the family meetings to reassess Frank's knowledge and priorities.

It was the day when Frank's childlike innocence died. The catalyst that would bring on the darkest days of Frank's life.

"We are quite concerned about who you hang out with." _You hang out with scum and the dirt on our feet._ "And we think that it's great that you could integrate yourself with everyone at school." _I can't believe how dumb you were to think that they are equal to you._ "But Francis sweetheart, you must know that they could never be your friends, it won't last forever." _Because we are from two different worlds, our’s higher than the other._ "And once you grow up, they are going to live separate lives away from you." _Some of them might not make it past high school with how little they have going for them._ "So we think maybe you should try and hang out with people more of your stature." _Because we got a reputation to uphold and your current friends are ruining our status._ "How about we start with Jake Acker?" _The kind of kid that we would like for you to be friends with._ "He's a nice boy, he’s the son of one of father's friend from work." _He's close enough to the family to be part of it and rich enough too._ "He also goes to your school, isn't that wonderful?" _So you don't have an excuse to not be friends with him._ "He's a silver too." _And we want you to be knocked up by him one day, think of all the wonderful richest we could gather._ "Okay?" 

"Okay." Frank wasn't dumb, he could read between the words.

At first Frank of course thought that he could keep the relationship between Jepha and him as solid as ever. They were in love after all. But it was hard to do that with the constant monitoring of his parents and not to mention Jepha's home life had took a turn for the worst.

The two of them found themselves growing apart. Only having stolen kisses in empty hallways and making do with an empty classroom to fulfill their desires. It was a strained relationship at best and neither of them knew the other that well anymore.

But history dies hard and memories will always stay with you. So even when Frank walked the hallways with his new friend in hand, he'd still imagined the hand that gripped his was that of Jepha's. And that's how the relationship was for the two, hanging by a thread.

They'd still stay I love yous through closed messages that they'd send one another. But it felt like everything has plateaued. Nothing more and nothing less.

With Frank's attention being grabbed forcibly by Jake, in comes more opportunity for their parents to butt in.

Jake had come to school that day with a ring in his pocket. A white gold ring that was diamond encrusted in the shape of a small crown. It was expensive of course; one could buy an entire district near the slums with it. And he had carried it with a set of instructions in mind. Bag the prize of the Iero riches.

Frank was pulling out books out of his locker when Jake had sneaked up right behind the stocking clad beauty and kneeled to the ground, being careful to not see up the other's skirt for it is not proper. He'd cleared his throat and Frank turned. "Would you be my future betrothed?" He had said.

Frank stood frozen for a while; he could see people from every faction gathering around the scene. A few jealous awes coming from the ones who had a chance to bag Jake and a few grunts from the others who was done with the over the top display of the rich being the rich. In the corner of his eyes he could see his secret boyfriend standing stark still, practically seething with anger as he waited for Frank's next move.

"I –“ He clamped both his eyes and mouth shut, knowing full well about the hurricane he was about to start in his heart. "Yes."

And the hallways erupted into equal cheers and groaned. Frank tried to catch the eyes of his maybe now ex-boyfriend as his hands were taken into Jake's and the ring slipped on his fingers. He saw the figure of Jepha walking away and into the school's staircase as the bell rang and the people in the hallway disperse.

"I've got to go." Frank said to Jake before he chased Jepha through the double doors that led to the staircase.

His heeled shoes clacking and echoing through concrete with every step, chipping away some of it's pale citrus paint. "Jepha! Jeph, wait!" He screamed as he finally catches up to the boy in question.

"What, Frank?!" Jepha suddenly turned around, halting Frank in his movement. "What do you want?" He said again less angry and more heart broken this time.

Frank took Jepha's hand from his pockets and held it in between his, squeezing with as much emotion as he could muster. "I want you." He said equally as broken.

"Well you shoulda thought of that before you said yes." Jepha yanked his hands from Frank's grip and turned around, partly not wanting to show anymore tears and weakness and partly to look away from Frank's beautiful face, tear stained and in agony.

"You know I can't do that, you _know_ that!" Frank screamed, stomping his feet in frustration. And the thing is, Jepha did know that and maybe he was a little unfair to Frank by doing the safest thing for him, Jepha would’ve wanted Frank to say yes too just as long as it could keep Frank away from harm. Jake could give a better life for Frank, one the other deserves. It isn’t fair, yes, he didn't chose the conditions he was born with and neither did Frank. But he can't overshadow his rational brain with his shattered heart because pain is all he feels right now.

"Maybe...maybe we could do this in secret you know. Maybe we'll eloped, but Jepha _please_." Frank sobbed, banging on Jepha's back. "Please."

And now Jepha was angry, irrationally so, but still angry. He whirled around so fast that he might've given himself whiplash and started shoving at Frank's tiny shoulders. "No! You know what, no! I've had it up to here with you upperclassmen thinking you can have whatever the _fuck_ you want without sacrificing anything, without even trying!! I'm done." He’s voice dwindled down in volume. "You know you're just the same as them; selfish, mindless, uncaring pricks, if you're just gonna lay there and be knocked up for your paren-." A sharp sting bloomed on Jepha's face and he knew he'd gone too far.

"Fuck you Jepha...Fuck you." Frank ran back up the stairs and this time Jepha was the one who did the chasing.

"Shit, Frankie I'm sorry. I didn't mean that, you know I didn't me-" Frank had yanked his elbows from Jepha's gripped and accidentally sent it flying to the other's chest. Everything happened so slowly and yet so fast. Like the world had stopped spinning and now their bodies were floating in space, a lifeless corpse still clinging to their detached souls. The force of their movement had thrown Jepha off balance and his foot started to slip. His heels were thrown to the edge of the steps and the next thing Frank knew Jepha was flying backwards.

By the time Frank had turned around, he heard a sickeningly loud crack that churned his stomach. He ran down the steps immediately to go check on Jepha but Jepha wasn't moving. His neck had twisted to the side in an almost inhuman way. Frank took it in between his hands, panicking, and he heard another loud crunch as his clumsy hands slump the head back down on the yellow cocreate. "Oh God." Frank sobbed, noticing Jepha's unmoving chest.

His mind was riddled with thoughts all flitting through a mile a minute, panic filled fight or flight responses flashing behind his eyes. He quickly took out the water bottle in his small purse and poured all around the yellow steps haphazardly. The colors blurring with how much tears had covered his eyes and he started to sob. This loud hiccuping sobs that sent his hands into a jittering mess. He quickly did the deed looking around frantically all the while not wanting to be caught in the act. The last thing he did was step in some of the puddles he had created and lastly watered the soles of Jepha's shoes as he stood there above the other's lifeless body.

Finally he stood, sharp and broad, angled body ready to take a huge intake of breath. Then he started to scream. Fearful scream. Louder than thunder.

Loud enough to grab the attention of people in classes that were located near the stare case. Teachers came to examine the body whilst shooing the children away. They'd asked Frank what had happened and Frank just shook his head saying mumbling words of 'I don't knows' before settling on 'I just found him here'.

Jake at some point had come and took Frank in his embrace, stroking down his back comfortingly. One thing was for sure, no one pitied Frank for losing someone, no one suspected him of anything, no one pitied Jepha's loved one, but they all pitied Frank for having witness a dead body of someone he knew.  
Because he was a white and Jepha was a nameless body to their privileged eyes.

He spent days torturing himself with his guilt prior to the funeral. Because he deserves the punishment by going down memory lane and replaying pictures of wonderful history in his mind. And something deep and dark had started to curl and constrict around Frank's heart. A shadow that loomed over him that came out whenever he was unstable. And every time he saw himself in the mirror a pair of pitch-black eyes stared back at him, smiling unflinchingly at the broken boy. Before long he knew, he wasn't the innocent young white that he used to be.

The funeral went by quick and dull. It was cheap of course and the Iero's was kind enough to pay for it all, almost as a pity point send of, plus the good press they had didn’t go unnoticed by the family. Frank was allowed to attend the funeral and he felt sick to the stomach when he saw his parent’s fake remorse for a child's death. No empathy what so ever in their eyes, instead choosing to pity Frank for finding him in the first place.

It was worse for Frank during the funeral, the feeling of bile rising up from his stomach to his throat. He saw Jepha's parents and several siblings that overtime he had got to know and Frank saw the light in their eyes dimmed until it eventually died when the casket was buried. Frank had come up to them to offer his condolences only to be met with another but more sincere form of pity from Jepha's mother saying, "I'm sorry you had to found him like that, I know you two were very close." And Frank had smiled sadly and nodded before running to find a secluded place to vomit. He was a monster.

He had gone home that day an empty shell of who he was before. He had crawled to the showers feeling like his body was covered in spilled blood of the practically innocent. He had shatter himself over and over and he was about to do it again. Crawling back to the shower where he found cold and steady numbness. He'd punish himself into thinking he was standing beneath the rain, a dream that he and Jepha never got to accomplish. And he'd stayed for hours until his skin was as shriveled as his heart. All the whilst having a steady apparition seep through his mind, strong and unwilling to move, buried in his soul.

*

"Mom, can I go around town after school?" Frank said through his mouth full of breakfast.

"Sure sweetheart." She said.

"Oh I'm sorry Mrs. Iero I couldn't accompany Frank after school. Polo practice and all." Jake said remorseful but peppy in his tone.

"Oh that's okay Jake – you could take care of yourself couldn't you, Frankie?" His mom asked.

"Of course." If only they knew that Frank always climbed one of the highest sky scraper in the city to just sit there on the edge looking down so he could contemplate his life and if he should take it. Only to glide down easily, safely, and unseen with the cursed powers of his. Oh, if only they knew the test that they did on him when he was a baby was wrong.

"Then okay.” He should’ve just died then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated putting the lyrics "I've got a boyfriend now and he's made of gold." but that led me to wanting to put the whole ass song lyric in cause every word freaking inspired this chapter.


	3. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter is inspired by the song Carry You Home by Zara Larsson.

_"Carry you home_  
_When it hurts like you've crashed from above_  
_Heal your broken bones_  
_When you can't move and your heart's still locked up."_

**Carry You Home by Zara Larsson**

*

The time that he'd spent egregiously on top of the highest pedestal in the city did not in fact go unnoticed by him. It was a gross amount of time that rivals his time spent punishing himself under the stream of cold water back home. And he'd sit there and ponder on the edge of mortality and thought how'd easy it'll be for him to just let go and – fall. The first elite to have taken their lives in centuries. The one that couldn't be covered up by copious amount of lies at least. Al though he won’t be surprised if that manage to do so.

And he sits there to ponder the shame that has cemented itself inside his heart from the day he was born. To a family who would never worry a day in their life whether or not they'd had food on the table at the end of the day. Instead he worries about whether or not he would amount to anything other than the killer he clearly was. The kind that sinks their teeth in an leave a mark around their victims heart only to suck it and bleed them dry a moment later.

Oh how simple it will be to just fall.

He thinks as he looked up to the city skyline, a smog over the far edge where the lower class live almost dividing the city into two. He'd looked down towards his feet dangling above cars that sped their way in and out different streets to get to their destination in such a hurry, and wondered to himself if he could fall, if the ironic thing inside of him would let him, whose car would he land on and what impact would he bring to that person’s life  
And he giggled blowing tendrils of smoke that burned his lungs.

There was a moon shining and illuminating the world down there even at night, and he thinks how beautiful a piece of rock in the sky could be. And then that thought somehow led to the thought of how beautiful he and his past would be. If the two of them were to make it and stand over the ashes of the decaying world to bring forth revolution.

This DNA altering thing that he went through could be beautiful if he chose to make the best of it. He knows that, have seen it several times during the momentary lapse of happiness he would give himself. But for now, the only none offensive thing that he could use without disturb anybody is his enhanced senses.

He'd turned his nose up in the air to smell the freshly put flowers over a rotting grave and revel in the smell of something dead and dying. He'd perked his ears up at the wind blowing whispers of songs that never existed in the first place. He'd look far over the city border and fantasize a world so different than what he knows.

But right now he'd just content himself with blowing smokes and capturing the essence of that until the last wisps faded away.

The sound of crashing thunder roared loud in his ears and he opened his eyes that had closed sometime between his self-loathing and day dreaming, to inspect the sky to see if he should move and hide himself from the oncoming rain. Acid rain, he'd thought bitterly. Only to find the sky was although dark is clear like dew drops in the morning. No clouds of thunder insight.

Clang, and there it is again, foreign to his ears as he realize the loud crash was not of thunder.

He looked down, low towards the ground where and alley way is hidden in between two buildings that were trying to match it's decrepit nature with one another. There, he saw three figures clad in black surrounding a boy as white as snow. From the tips of his hair to the bottom of his soles he was covered in stark, blinding white. And Frank was intrigued.

He didn't do anything as the boy was kicked to the ground where he landed on a puddle of murky water that effectively colored his stark white clothes. The other boys were screaming profanities at him, calling him slurs that could only be directed towards one subspecies. And when a particularly large hit was sent to the pearl boy's skull, a crack formed from the center of his forehead down to his heart where the boy's face started to break apart and chip away.

Frank has had enough. He closed his eyes and put his hand on the nearest source of shadow he could and grab hold of it as he melted away. Down into the darkness where he became one as he floats down gently into the ground. By the time he formed himself onto the mouth of the alley way the scoundrels had stopped kicking and started threatening words of obvious lies that could send the boy down on his knees to his death.

Frank walked forward. "Hey!" He bellowed, making himself known.

All of them looked towards the sound and was about to shout back when he noticed that the one who called out was in fact an upper classman.

"What's going on here?" Frank halted his movement with a clack of his heeled boots that sent dirty water onto his shoes. His hands perched on his hips cocked to the side and his eyes glared. "What did this grey do to you?" He said hoping to not sound too accusatory.

"O-oh –“What of the boy said as he stepped forward and let go of the porcelain skinned boy's stark white hoodie. "He tried to feel my girl up back at the club." He said overly confident, that the statement rang false in Frank's ears.

Frank considered them for a while. Honestly there was nothing his status can do to help set a revenge scheme for the boy in white but he could help him out of trouble and subsequent death, and so he tried to breathe as normal as possible as he said his next words. "Got anything to say scum?" He spit to the boy who was kneeling in the mud and trash who shook his head slowly without meeting Frank's eyes. It was clear he knew his fate, most likely long ago.

"Al right, I'll take him from here. My words would be more credible then yours." Frank almost laugh at the incredibly despiteful words he was saying and how normal it is for someone like him to say these deceitful words without any repercussion.

The three standing boys looked at each other and nodded before running away towards where ever that is that they came from.

Once it was the two of them in that dark alleyway, Frank finally took a step forward extending his hand out. "Come on, stand up." He said firmly as the boy took his hand.

He was taller than Frank, but then again everyone is. And Frank did the unthinkable and put his hand on the other and started dusting of what little grime he can off of the other's body. The other had gone tensed at the movement, probably surprise that he's still here and was not half way to the police station by now.

"Don't act so surprise." Frank muttered. "No one deserves to die for hitting on someone else’s girl." And that's what Frank sure had probably happen. A weird looking grey thinking that they could have a chance with someone normal and beautiful was probably what sparked the heat behind the three tormentors’ action.

The other scoffed and Frank quirked his brows. Maybe Frank’s prediction was wrong. "I couldn't hit his on a girl, I'm gay." He said voice scratchy and dark. And Frank look up to see the most beautiful pair of eyes he'd ever seen.

"Oh." Was all Frank said as he stood back and inspect his handy work. "There, you don't look as dirty anymore."

"Wow really? I have a wet stain on my ass that looks like I just shart myself and I look fine to you?" The words were harsh and crude in it's meaning, but there was a light teasing to his tone that brought a small smile to Frank’s lips that he wipes not two seconds later.

"Well despite tha –“

"Why are you helping me?" The boy asked amused.

"Wh-wha –“

"Why are you helping me?" He said more firmly this time.

And Frank sighed. He scuffed his shoes on the dirty tarmac and started to point up awkwardly. "I was there, I saw you." He said slowly. "So, I came to help." He waited for the other boy to catch up.

"You're a grey." He said unsurprised.

"Yeah."

They stood there for a while not saying anything to each other. The sound of the city bustling around them in a faraway land.

"Well I'm Gerard." He finally said and Frank looked up a small smile on his face.

"Frank." and that was that.

*

The days that followed after meeting Gerard would be filled by wholesome conversations and shared breathes as the two got to know each other.

Frank's parents was satisfied to found that Frank had started to find passion in going out and walking around the city, or so they thought. And although Frank loved his family despite everything, they are still quite dumb and gullible for believing their son would step foot out of the prison like mansion he stayed in during his self-induced exile that he’d be doing it for good reasons. Maybe it's because of the fact that teenage rebellion in the upper-class faction died years ago that they are so easily susceptible.

Frank was also happy to find that his betrothed had found solace in things like polo, water polo, some other thing that vaguely looks like polo. And was too busy to take his betrothed out for a date. Frank would kiss him on the cheek, making it pointedly clear that no he did not want to kiss the lips, only to say that he was find with his future husband great new activities. And that he doesn't need company when going into the city.

Frank would wear the darkest grimiest clothes he had that belonged to Jepha once. and had been residing in the deepest crevice of his closet ever since the other's death. And he tried his best to cover up the upper classman aura in him. Purposefully hides the emblem the Iero as an upper classman has to carry everywhere.

He'd sneak into Gerard's house to be greeted by no one and he'd go deeper and under until he found Gerard's room, the basement.

"Hey." He said hopping the last steps towards the bottom floor. And skipped towards the sleeping lump under the blanket. He sat on the mattress with a bounce that subsequently woke up the lump from it's slumber. "Wake up Gee, Jesus you got some sort of allergy to morning."

The lump swatted his hands towards the vague direction of Frank as Frank easily dodges the pathetic attack with a giggle. "Fuck off the clock's not double digit yet." He mumbled into his pillow.

Frank looked towards the clock on Gerard's night stand and saw it beeping back as 9:47 in the morning and he scoffed. "Yeah, only thirteen minutes away from it. 9:48. "Twelve."

"Yea alright alright I'm up." Frank happily thrusts his hand full of carry on coffee towards Gerard's even paler face.

It was cute the way he scrunched up his nose and his face turned into one of elation instead of misery even before Gerard opened his eyes. "Awe Frankie..." He drawled as he took the cup and chugged it as it scalds his tongue. "Perfect as always."

Frank smiled and nudged his friend to give him space of the bed. He curled up next to the form who was still finishing the last of his coffee and drew his feet together and hugged it. "So, what are we gonna do today." He said, voice weird from his jaw resting on his knees.

Gerard held his finger up as he drips the last drop of coffee into his mouth. "Swear to God that is what human fuel is." He mumbled satisfied. He set the empty cup down somewhere beneath the bed where all his trash resides and then sat up to face Frank fully. "I'm thinking we could go to Ray's then finish off with skating near the pier." He said resolutely.

"Cool." Frank got up to play with Gerard things like he always does as he waits for Gerard to start gathering himself before they could go.

Frank went to the far side of the room and picked up a couple of marbles and oddly shaped dice and examined each for a minute. He was about to go towards Gerard's collection of books before he heard a wince and what sounded like broken glass.

Frank turned around to see Gerard had slipped on a small drop of coffee and had shattered his legs to pieces. "Fuck." He hissed and that moved Frank of his stupor.

"Shit." Frank kneeled near Gerard, hand hovering over the area where Gerard broke. "It must've spilled when I shook it a bit, I'm sorry." He said.

Gerard shook his head as his feet started to reform. "It's fine, shit happens." Frank sat back on his hunches and waited for Gerard to reform before hugging him to his chest.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled again and his voice sounded way too sad for the situation. And tears slipped down his face where it dripped to Gerard's white hair.

"Hey...hey...Frank, I'm fine see, I'm fine." He said pulling the boy away so he could see his face.

And Frank knows it's fine. Gerard can crash and reform himself over and over again just as long as his heart isn't the one that was destroyed but Frank can't just help it. Some sort of metaphorical thing that his body turned into once he became a grey. Something about feeling insecure and fragile in his own body but his heart would always be the one that saves him. Oddly poetic for a grey.

Frank loved that about Gerard, always so brave for others and himself. Always so kind into giving people the benefit of the doubt. And always so strong despite his appearance.

But Frank can't help to view the literal porcelain boy as fragile from time to time. His heart won't allow rest when it comes to the people he came to love. And decision was to similar to the ones he had cause before and his heart ache of the memory. Of a boy falling down because of him.

Frank sobbed into Gerard's shirt and Gerard did nothing but hush him and stroke down his back comfortingly. After Frank's fit subsided, he pulled himself of Gerard and got up taking Gerard's hands and guiding him onto Gerard's bed.

After their meeting Gerard had quickly grown attached to Frank and vice versa. So, it was natural for the two of them to know to an extent about each other's quirk and personality. Of course, Gerard knew that Frank's certain affliction makes it so that Frank could move either in the light or in the shadows as freely as he can. And that there's no line where his powers stop and Gerard thought that was cool.

A couple of times that would sit together just showing each other their weirdness secluded in an abandon building somewhere and just rips away. Gerard can of course do nothing more than break and reform but Frank thought it was cool anyway.

But what Frank could do, it was nothing short of amazing. When he was sad or angry for whatever reason that day, he would bleed out his powers and let the darkness ripped from all around him. Pushing boulders and cracking structure with a shout and a hand gesture. His eyes would go pitch black and the veins around it would bulge equally as inky black. And when he was giggly and happy the way he mostly was when around Gerard, he would create this tiny wisp of light that'll dance just above his palm before moving on it's own to fill the space around them. It will bring warmth into their hearts as it danced around to rhythmless beats before fading away peacefully. Gerard would clap and kissed Frank cheeks on that day.

"I wanna tell you something." Frank whispered so quietly into the air around them. "It's about how I became...a g-grey." He hesitated.

Gerard nodded putting on a face full of support as he waited for Frank to start his story.

*

There was no way to describe how beautiful Frank looks in Gerard's eyes, elated and happy as he skate away through the fog of the midnight sky with his eyes glinting back the surface of the dark water of the ocean. And when he fell of his board he'd giggled and right himself back up, pushing on Gerard's chest for letting him go.

"Stop doing that." He said through his laughter.

"Oh? I thought you were the best skateboarder in all of the shared universe? Were you –“Gerard gasps. “lying?” Gerard said, fake appalled. He likes teasing Frank lightly as he let go yet again of Frank's waist.

"Stop!" Frank said whilst trying to right himself back up, chuckling too much for it to happen quickly. "Holy shit Gee if you do that again I'm gonna fall on my ass."

Gerard just can't not take the opportunity. "You can fall on something that you don't have."

Frank gasped so affronted and camp that Gerard had to laugh at the expression on the younger ones face.

"I will have you know that my ass is perfectly rounded and cute thank you very much." He said before putting his foot down hard on the skates where it jumped up and rolled away. "Fuck...I really suck." Frank muttered before going to pick up the board and just held it in his arm instead of using it again.

"Did Jepha tell you that?" Gerard asked in an awkwardly teasing tone and Frank's face fell but the smile was still present on his face.

"I - uh yeah...I guess so." Frank said awkwardly back and Gerard realized his mistake.

"Ah fuck, I'm sorry - I made it awkward." Gerard has never interacted with someone like Frank. Someone he could potentially see himself spending the rest of his life with. Then the glinting of the other's ring finger under the moonlight would solidify in his mind that he could never have him.

"It's okay. For what it's worth, I - don't feel as bad anymore when I think of Jepha." Frank was still haunted of course but instead of a malevolent presence it was a shell full of memories, subjective to it's time and incredibly solid.

"Hey Gee."

"Yeah?" Gerard moved to turn his head towards Frank where his face was abruptly seized in his spot and his lips pressed onto something soft and a little bit cold.

They parted softly only after a few seconds; Frank only did that to test the waters. Gerard was standing so still that he could be mistaken as a statue, unmoving with a look of shock in his face. Frank was worrying his finger nails into a stub and biting down hard on his bottom lips. When Gerard continue not to say anything Frank sought to relieve the silence.

"W-was that okay?" His voice shook with how nervous he is.

Gerard blinked himself back from where he was and started to move again, small little movement invisible to the human eyes. Before he moves at break neck speed to cup the face of the other’s, supple wide jaw to take his lips back into his own again.

With the two establishing exactly what the other want, there was no more hesitation in their movement. Gerard placed a hand on Frank's his and drew the smaller in. And Frank carded his hand in between Gerard's surprisingly soft short strands of hair and pulled.

The action of which brought a moan out of Gerard's lips that parted Frank's lips along with the movement. Gerard took it as an advantage to slip his tongue inside the other's mouth. Frank started to suck softly the other's tongue and just let his mouth be explored.

From so close Frank could feel the difference of Gerard from Jepha. For once Gerard smooth porcelain figure encompasses even his mouth so there was this thin sheet of otherworldly cool smoothness throughout the whole of Gerard. And Frank found it interesting and sought to explore it more.

In contrast, Frank was running hot throughout his body. His skin prickled with soft beads of sweet despite the cold night air hitting his exposed figure. It was like the light inside of Frank that usually came out of it during his happy moments suddenly was running full force. Making Frank's whole body emit a soft glow in the darkness. And Gerard moved his hands everywhere of Frank to fulfill himself of the need to keep his hands warms.

When they parted yet again with a slick noise, they rested their foreheads on one another, bringing each other's body temperature to a normal state. And there they stood panting for a while.

"Wanna go back to mine?" Gerard asked, his eyes still close, wanting to savor the moment as long as he can. He could feel the nod that Frank gave him through his forehead and he quickly grip the other's tint waist to twirl him abruptly before setting him down.

"Then let's go." He said before booking it with Frank in hand towards his house.

*

Once they reached the basement the both of them quickly took each and every of article of clothing on their body off. And quickly stumble into bed together, Frank falling gracelessly backwards and Gerard following suite.

"Hi." Gerard chuckled; his hands perched on either side of Frank's head.

"Hi." Frank giggle back softly as he took Gerard's head and bring him down for another searing kiss.

Blindly Gerard touched everywhere of Frank's now naked body and Gerard found it so incredibly soft and flawless. He stroked down the smaller’s shoulder where it ran down their chest and the settled onto his hips. He squeezed it softly and Frank gave a soft whimper that made Gerard's whole body weak.

Gerard drew back for a second and saw Frank's face was one full of peace and beauty as he rummage through the drawer for the items he needed. He threw it down on the bed next to Frank and continue with his exploring of Frank's mouth.

Their soft pants could be heard around the room, growing louder and louder as they both got themselves to the brink without even going further yet. Gerard drew his mouth away from Frank's and opted to exploring the other's beautifully elongated neck where Frank arched his back to be closer to Gerard despite him being practically draped over him.

Frank grab hold of Gerard's hair and pulled and pushed at the same time. Wanting more but wanting it to last.

Gerard made a path of kissed down Frank's chest where he encircled his tongue on one of the small rosy nub there where it harden under him. Frank emitted tiny little gasps as he bites on the other nub as Gerard rub his soft supple hips at the same time.

Once Gerard reached Frank's hips with his lips he started making small little marks there where it bloomed with color almost immediately with how pale and sensitive the other's skin is. The other arched up to the touch and groaned when one particularly harsh bite was administer to his delicate skin.

Gerard pulled back to look at Frank's blissful face. "Turned around for me baby." And Frank did so without question.

The expand of skin that was Frank's back was a new and beautiful territory to Gerard. And he couldn't wait to explore some more. Pressing small delicate kissed to the curve of Frank's spine until he reached the swell of the other's ass. Gerard chuckled, noticing that Frank's previous description of his ass was fairly accurate before biting the left cheek harshly.

Frank gasped and wiggled his hips with the movement but Gerard was holding his hips steady in place. Gerard them licked the indents of his teeth and marvel at the mark he left.

He continue his travel of Frank's body by spreading the other's cheeks apart, having a none obstructed view of the tight pink puckered hole. Gerard liked up the crack of Frank's ass and Frank gasped wetly, crushing his face into one of the pillows. "Fuck Gee..." He moaned out as Gerard blew some air onto the wet hole and saw the thin skin there shiver.

"God hurry." Frank said when Gerard was just staring there at Frank's exposed hole, rubbing tenderly at the skin there.

He took the lube from somewhere and squirt a generous amount onto few of his fingers. He took his time spreading Frank opened and messaging the walls there and seeing Frank's thin composure crumble under his touch. "Please Gerard." He whispered and how could Gerard not oblige?

Gerard took his member in hand and rolled the condom up to wrap around it, stroking some lube onto it before pressing the head to Frank's stretched out hole and pushing in slowly. The two of the groaning all the way until Gerard was buried deep in Frank's heat.

Gerard let out a huge breath and dropped his head to Frank's back where he gathered himself there for a while. "Fuck, so tight." He said to Frank's ears as he saw the boy shiver with his words then Gerard started moving.

Going in and out of Frank in slow shallow thrusts until Frank whines in protest to which Gerard responded by moving faster and faster still until the bed was shaking with his efforts.

Frank was a sweety mess beneath him who writhed and moved to Gerard's rhythm. The friction that he felt on his member that is trapped in between the cold sheet and his body was giving him extra pleasure alongside Gerard's movement.

When Gerard shifted to get a better footing he came across Frank's prostate and the boy beneath him shouted loud enough to ring in his ears. And Gerard took the effort to hit that spot every time he went in harder and deeper from the last.

"Fuck Gee..." Frank groaned out, struggling to grab hold of his member before shouting out as the first touch of his finger to his member sent him over the edge.

The feeling of Frank contracting all around him brought the final straw to Gerard as he too shouted and came deep inside of Frank. "Fuck!" He said still moving in and out of Frank's hole to milk their orgasms until they reached oversensitivity when Gerard promptly pulled out.

He fell with a thump right next to Frank and he threw the condom somewhere across the room. He drew the panting boy to his chest. Stroking his sweaty hair out of his face and kissing his forehead. Frank cuddled into Gerard's embrace and hid his face in the crook of the older's neck as he threw in small kisses onto it.

"I think I love you." Gerard whispered to the ceiling.

Frank didn't say anything for a while and Gerard was afraid he had said something wrong before Frank finally shifted and planted a kiss on Gerard's jaw. "I think I love you too." He said as he hunkered back down and closed his eyes.

His breathe fell steady and Gerard knew the younger was fast asleep. Gerard looked towards the other soft pliant face and thought of a way to tell what he needs to tell when Frank would eventually wake. So, with a sigh he closed his eyes and succumb to unconsciousness.


	4. Rock-Bottom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was actually inspire by Carry you home still, but Rock Bottom by Hailee Steinfeld fit with the story as well imo.

_"What are we fighting for?_   
_Seems like we do it just for fun_   
_In this, this stupid war_   
_We play hard with our plastic guns"_

**Rock Bottom by Hailee Steinfeld**

*

When the two eventually woke up sometime into the cold air of dawn, they looked towards one another and smiled. All sleepy smile full of happiness and young hope. The kind of smile that goes on for hours in a span of a few seconds. Only ever highlighted by the dust motes that floats around them and that can only be seen when the light that manages to shot through the gap in the shitty window curtains. It was a surprise to Frank that Gerard’s basement can still managed to get some sort of natural light in there.

"Hey." Gerard was the first to break the silence, feeling satiated and happy for about a minute more before remembering his resolution from before he fell asleep and a frown form on his face slowly.

"What is it?" Hundreds of scenarios that ran through Frank's head centered around Gerard not actually wanting this and the repercussion that could be met with loving someone like Frank. It seems that his mind was already racing without his accords, and overly dramatized scenes played in his mind. But then Gerard shook his head, smiling lightly like he knew frank was struggling. And just like that Frank’s overly easy racing heartbeat slow down into a steady hum.

It became almost too quiet for a minute that even the dust particles seem to be the loudest thing in the room, with a large sigh this time. "You told me something important to you yesterday." He started slowly. "And now I think I should tell you my story." Gerard said, feeling his heart drop to his stomach and bile rise up his throat.

Frank nodded and waited empathetically.

 _School_ life for kid Gerard was kind of awesome. Despite the fact that he did not come from the upper class, he was not quite from the slums either. And living somewhere in between was quite ideal in this cold contrasting world. Especially when the scales are only balanced by two differing side, being in the middle was somewhat of a blessing. Never being to vain and naïve enough to believe in the lies he’s told. And not having to struggle so greatly in the world that putting food on the table would be as difficult as throwing a penny into a coin slot that was a mile away. _More_ difficult even.

Once upon a time, being part of the one percent means being one of the richest man alive. But now it means being one of the normal people left alive.

He would walk the school halls with lively confidence, enough so that it brought people from two opposing sides to stand next to him and befriended him. He wasn't too dumb as well; he'd have his tests come back a B on average. And the teachers liked him enough for his behavior. Everyone can never resist the charisma he has, no matter how reluctant some of them feels about his status. To put it simply, Gerard was one in a billion.

He was kind, he was naive, and he was beautiful.

His little brother was not.

Mikey Way led an estranged life, different from his brother entirely. Unlike his charismatic older brother, he was not confident or kind in anyway. Whenever he opens his mouth the things that would come out, no matter the urgency, would always come out stuttered and halted. Always stinted emotionally and never able to convey the true words behind the physical ones. And it wasn't like he had a speech impediment, he just had debilitating anxiety. And that was not ideal for someone like him. He always managed to offend someone in some way whenever he speaks. So friends, or even potential of friends came scarcely to one Mikey Way’s life.

He looked pale and scrawny, almost sickly in many occasions. And his quietness would garner harsh criticism from his classmate that would lead to abuse almost equal in harshness to the ones the grey would receive. The way his face would default into cold and dead emotionless stare whenever he’s not actively controlling it didn’t help either. Not putting up a front would help much either, it’s like his facial muscles just weren’t meant to look all that friendly.

In short, Mikey Way was a mess of awkward gangly limbs that didn't know how to move, how to speak, or how to interact with people. The only thing he knew how to do is to confide in his older brother whenever these failed interactions happened. And it would happen, _a lot._

But Gerard was young and naive then. He couldn't possibly empathize with his brother when he led such an impossibly different life. All he could do was sympathize by giving him few encouragements to his brother. Maybe ones that are sometimes too overly peppy and hopeful for someone in Mikey's situation. Gerard tried to make someone who has never seen illumination to seek the light at the end of the tunnel. There was no light where Mikey can see, the words Gerard would utter were a little uneducated for the time, that it had the opposite effect that was intended by Gerard. Mikey always appreciate it as best he can though. Anyone would too if the only non-negative interactions only come once in a blue moon, from someone who was practically made to care for Mikey no less.

It wasn’t enough though. Could never be enough for a fully functioning but emotionally stinted human being. Mikey drew in on himself even more until he eventually faded into fragments of consciousness that moved through life like a ghost. Tormented, scared and pointless.

As he got older, school got harder and harder for him. To the point where his grades plummeted to the ground in a huge fiery crash and all he could do was mourn his losses, never being able to speak for himself. He eventually drew away from every single thing he once held dear. Every single thing that was of importance to him, curling in on himself as he ate away at his sanity. Only drawing his grip from Gerard lastly, wanting to think that his brother would understand, since they share the same blood running through their veins.  
But of course, he didn't, no one did.

It was a new month, a greatly dreaded time of Mikey's first high school debut. It was the first time after a while where he and Gerard would be in the same school again. Mikey, stupidly, did thought it was a blessing. Maybe then he would get a break from his usual torments.

Mikey quickly, unsurprisingly, dropped the ball on being popular and continue throwing it down the stairs until he plummeted to the point of irrelevance. But that was cool for him, if he was quiet and invisible then no torment would come for him.

So he spent his first semester like that for a while, until tragedy struck. It was the English lit class that took out Mikey's under covered demeanor. When his teacher asked him to read a passage off of hamlet in front of the whole class. It’s just his luck that out of all the kids in the room, he would get chosen.

Needless to say it was a disaster. An entertaining spectacle where Mikey showcased his most prominent and peculiar flaws in front of a room full of heartless teenagers.

He became the butt of the school joke very quickly. Receiving punches and kicks and a few visits into several different lockers each day of every week. Spending his time either in absolute isolation or absolute pain. That became his life for a while.

Of course with this much action going on, it didn't go unnoticed to Gerard that his little brother was being bullied. And he would be the big brother who helped his brother up from a beating. Be the brother who called the janitor to let Mikey out of the lockers. And be the brother who led Mikey to the infirmary when he was too hurt to walk.

This of course sparked rumors throughout the whole school of Gerard being Mikey's significant other. But Gerard quickly shot down that rumor by coming out as Mikey's older brother. People believed it well enough because they both have the same last name.

Now this may not have led to Gerard losing his friends but it did lead to the weird and cold atmosphere that would befell him every time he meets up with these so-called friends. They would pity Gerard for having such a putrid pathetic sack of a brother. And though the words made Gerard's blood boiled, it never spilled over out of his mouth on how much he actually hated it. Instead he would smile and nod, chuckle out some of the tension and divert the conversation into something else.

It was one deciding day that brought Gerard inaction into play. Mikey was doing track when he accidentally tripped and knocked himself over a female student. She shouted loud enough that people flocked over, people were quick to murmur and frame Mikey. They would testify their ball sacks of that Mikey had assaulted the girl. And the girl, evil and careless enough, played along.

The jocks suddenly felt a sense of duty, being suddenly civil and caring on behalf of this one lying girl, by setting a side time for Mikey to beat him into a pulp by first tying him up to the goal post and spitting profanity and actual spit on his face. Gerard heard about the incident immediately and ran to his brother. But not to his aid.

Instead he watches as his brother plead and beg when the jocks threw buckets and buckets of cold water onto him. One of the jocks had noticed him and dragged him into the circle.

"Your brother did a shitty thing Gee. You should punish him." He said thrusting a bucket of cold ice water into Gerard's hand. Gerard stared at it for a while and the others stared at him. Waiting for him to make a decision and pick a side.

You see, despite everything that Gerard was. All the beautifully unique thing that made him special, Gerard was still just a kid. A kid who wanted to go through life safe and unharmed. A kid that still seeks the validation of others even if he did have a strong heart beating in his chest. He was still so young, he’s gone through so much, he just can’t let all of his efforts go to waste. And really, Gerard thought that there was no harm. That he can always come home and fix the damage later, and Mikey would silently forgive him the way he usually does.

And so the young Gerard gripped the bucket of the freezing cold ice water in his hands tightly. Hearing the chatter of his brother's teeth like it was right next to his ears, before he threw the content of the bucket right onto Mikey's body. Gerard watches as the water slowly poured down his brother’s body and watch as the skin starts to tinge blue almost immediately. Watch his brother’s face fell even though there was no surprise there. Gerard felt horrible almost immediately, but he can’t let anybody see that.   
He threw the empty bucket down and walked away. Not wanting to see or hear his brother's cries of anguish any longer.

That evening he went home to a quiet house. His mother and father were not there like they always weren’t and so he toed of his shoes without any alarm as he enters his house.

He threw himself onto his bed almost immediately and felt the aching in his body from football practice subsided. He contemplates the lengths he has gone through to keep himself popular and suddenly the aching in his muscles didn’t felt all that bad anymore. The thought finally moved to the back of his mind and the fact that he was sweaty and sticky came to the for front of his mind. He wanted to take a bath, or a shower just as long as he can wash the grime off. Not to mention the events that had unfolded that day had left him strung out. So, he decided to take a bath to wash of the physical and metaphorical dirt on his body.

He didn’t think much of it when he strip himself of his clothes and sling a towel over his shoulders. He stepped into the bathroom expecting the same four walls that always greeted him.  
What he saw was nothing short of devastation. The kind that would crack entire worlds in half.

He ran towards his brother's body, limp and cold drenched in his own blood in the tub. Gerard ghosted his hand over his brother's face before dragging him out and holding him tight to his body. There was nothing left of his brother as he squeezed the lifeless body to his chest.

He felt a crinkling of something in the back pocket of his little brother's pants. With shaky fingers he took it out and found a suicide note. And his sobs rang louder in the tiled room.

He opened it and started reading, seeing some blood have dripped onto the edges of the paper. The contents inside broke Gerard's heart and he felt as fragile and broken as ever. His life force drained out of his body the way his little brother’s blood did. It was devastation of the highest level.

The words that his brother wrote painted a picture full of sorrow and misery. Of shitty big brothers who he loved despite everything and was okay with for not loving him back. It created a world in Gerard's mind where everything was stretched thin to the point of breaking and his heart ached at the words. The last few sentences explaining his decision was an early death sentence not by a lot, because his little brother had found out he had fallen into the affliction that is the grey that very same day. One of porcelain skin and terrible heart and he drew a parallel of him and Gerard where the two weren't that much different on the outside but Gerard was stronger on the inside.

Oh how untrue that statement was to Gerard, because if it was true, Gerard would wear his heart out on his sleeves right about now. Receiving all the bad things that would come to him from doing so and embracing it with open arms. He would hold his brother hand all throughout high school with his head held high.  
Gerard would give his life for his brother, but sadly, he realized it way too late.

Regardless, that night Gerard had lain in bed looking up at the ceiling as he crafted himself into the image his brother has seen him in and effectively adopting the affliction for himself. It was a slow torturous process that he welcomed with open arms. It was the least he could do in his brother’s memory.

Frank was crying by the time Gerard ended the story. And the two cried together as they lay there clutching at every part of one another’s body, after realizing the severity of one’s action or lack thereof can be. And what a fragile world they lived in.

"A fragile world for a fragile boy." Gerard chuckled through his sobs and Frank said nothing, he just hugged Gerard closer and didn’t let go after at least an hour or two.

*

Ever since that day, Gerard and Frank had grown closer. As two individuals in love could be after sharing such and intimate moment with their bodies and sharing such an emotional fact about themselves to one another. There was nothing left unopened between the two of them and there was nowhere to go but up at this point.

They were so happy to be blessed with one another. A new form of happiness that they could trust and they could call home. It was nothing short of a miracle after the tragedies the two have gone through. No one can ever believe this type of comeback can ever happen if they just heard it in a story. But here they are in the flesh, alive, well, and in love.

They felt young and rejuvenated again. The sparks inside them that was once dead had reignited itself. And they felt bullet proof, oblivious to the dampening sound of the world's disapproval that they would constantly hear ringing in their ears.

They had gone back to the pier where Frank yank his ring out bitterly and threw it far enough away into the dark abyss of the ocean. It was somewhat of an important thing to him. Not because it was a symbol of Jake's devotion but because it was symbol of the day that broke everything in him. The thing that he wore around his finger not because he liked it but because he wanted the reminder to hurt himself in a way. He felt like he wasn’t a good enough person to forget about that day.

But as the ring fell heavy as it sinks below to the bottom of the ocean, a weight off of his chest was lifted and he shouted out with glee up to the murky skies above him. He felt light knowing the waves of the ocean would carry that ring further and further away, that he would never see that thing ever again.

"Come on." Gerard said as he grabbed Frank by the wrist and ran.

They ran themselves in and out of different places in the city. Having forgotten the fragility of their situation was. Gerard had even gone into one of the stores and had bought Frank a ring.

It was a shitty ring to put it simply. It was made of metal that sat a little too snugly on Frank's fingers. It was decorated with fake diamonds all around, with a tacky metal heart bended right in the middle as the center piece. "It's beautiful Gee." Frank smiled, ignoring the ringing that came from his purse that he eventually turned into a dull vibration.

His parents was probably worried that he hasn't come home in two days. But Frank doesn't care. As much as he loved them, he loved his freedom more and at this rate he might never come home and he was fine with that.

"Come on!" This time it was Frank who said, running straight towards the old school movie theater just down the block with a youthful vigor he might never get back after today.

They ran as fast as their legs could carry, skidding to a halt in front of the glass booth of the ticket vendor, a giggling and panting mess. The person behind the glass didn't seem to mind or care about anything though, just chewing on his gum with a loud annoying smack.

The giggling eventually decreased and the two composed themselves enough to actually speak. "Two tickets to Carrie please." Frank smiled, wanting to immediately experience the old classic in a higher definition than Gerard's shitty laptop.

The guy got the tickets and slid it over the opening with dead practiced movement. "20 bucks." He said like it was the most boring thing to say in the world. Which to be fair, it probably was.

Frank quickly slam the twenty before Gerard's hand could even registered the movement, his hands didn’t even have the chance to twitch to his pockets yet. Frank grabbed the tickets quickly "Thanks" He said dragging a giggling Gerard behind him.

They went to get some popcorns and drinks not minding feeding into the overprized system of capitalism for once. They were too fired up and happy to be stopped here. And they would enjoy their movie experience to the fullest goddammit.

"Fuck I'm so excited." Frank said, body jittering as proof despite not knowing that they were showing Carrie in the theaters today.

"Me too." Gerard said, equally as giddy. The two of the high off of each other.

It was to be expected that when the day ended, they ended up making out not even half way through the movies. Ignoring the glares of the people around them and choosing to move closer instead. They were so preoccupied with themselves that they didn't realize there were three new patrons in the theater.

Three teens that if they would look up, their faces would be familiar to the couple.

It was unfortunate for the two of them that the three teenagers did not share the same sentiment of obliviousness as them. Almost immediately the three set of eyes locked themselves onto the boastful couple that was making out on the last row. Their eyes filled with recognition immediately and a sinister planned form within their minds.

*

They were walking home blissfully after their fulfilling day. Rain had started to come down and the throngs of people around them had started producing their umbrella and had started ignoring the giggly mess of two teenagers that were too happy for this world.

Frank and Gerard didn't mind the rain though. They revel in the coldness and the smell of rain against the tarmac.

Acid rain. What a silly notion it was.

Here they were dancing under the tears that had fallen from the sky, just smiling their two wide smiles and for once enjoying existence. The rain washed over Frank better than the icy water of his shower ever did. And he embraced the cutting cold of each drop on his skin almost burning it with what felt like absolution. And Gerard was there every step of the way.

"Stick your tongue out." Frank giggled and demonstrated.

"It's probably full of piss.” Gerard scrunch his face up. “and bacteria." Gerard shouted in Frank's ears, the beating of raindrops covering his voice. But after a beat he stuck his tongue out anyway because he could never deny the boy of anything.

"Taste that?" Frank eventually said, withdrawing his tongue and waited for Gerard to do the same before continuing. "That's the taste of something new right there."

Gerard shook his head giggling. “How poetic. “He teased. Gerard may not have known what Frank meant fully but he knew what the words felt like washing over his body. He cupped Frank's face in his shivering hands and leaned in for a kiss.

How fitting. Two couples standing in the rain as the mindless motion of the people around them go on as any other day would. If this was a movie, the screen would fade to black.

But the story's not done. With a harsh yank to his collar Gerard fell backwards and away from Frank and onto a broad firm chest. "Why're you not dead yet fucker." The voice asked in a sinister tone. Gerard’s face bloomed with pain not two seconds after as someone hit it hard.

"No!" Somewhere to his left Frank screamed. He was being held back by one of the boys.

"Shut up! This is for your own good you little bitch." The guy hissed in Frank's ears as he held the struggling body tightly.

Beatings. Firm hard beatings were what Gerard was experiencing. And not from some regular old hands, no, this time the two brought baseball bat.

It was odd in a way, for this attack to have happen. They were in the middle of busy traffic of people for fuck sake. But no one wanted to help the freak of nature that was clearly a grey and decided to just go about their life.

A loud crash that bled through the sound of his pounding ears alerted Frank to Gerard's first limb shattering. His right arm was in a million pieces on the ground and he found himself struggling against his captors hold.

 _Crash._ And again, another limb has fallen and Gerard had gone down to his knees and was going more and more off balance.

 _Crash._ And now his chest has exploded. Concaving on himself as the broken pieces showed the most vulnerable part of his body, the red beating glass heart that he had kept safe despite his affliction all these years. And The two boys eyes went wide at the sight, they looked at each other before taking the smooth red glass and ripping it away from Gerard’s chest.

"No!!" And this time Frank used his powers to pushed the guy back and away from him hard enough that he heard his spine cracked on the tarmac. He ran towards Gerard as quickly as he can, only seeing the beating red heart of Gerard's that was still connected to his chest with a few small crystal-like vines.

Then the guy started squeezing and Frank could practically see the lights going out in Gerard's eyes. And He shouted again, louder this time. "No!!!"

A sound so loud ripped from right out of the most primal parts of himself as it shattered out of his body in a million tiny fragments. Lights shot out from every crevice of his body, cracks spiderwebbing on every inch of his body. Soundwaves that came out of him in one strong pulse pushed everything near him away. Encasing them in white bright light that pushes itself outwards with incredible force. Like a shield sent down from the heavens.

In the center of everything, there was a loud boom that can be heard from miles away. He could almost see the panic in everyone's eyes around him as everything starts to unfold. The people all looking at him like he was something scary, something to be feared, like if they stare long enough, they would just drop dead. People's mouth fell open in a silent scream. Silent only to Frank because he couldn't hear anything where he was, in the center of everything.

Looking towards the other two tormentors, their eyes had gone wild. Pupils blown out of proportion, in an almost cartoonishly wide eyes. Their bottoms drop from beneath once they realized what they have done. Frank saw the one guy who was holding Gerard's heart let go and was relieved that it didn't shatter.

The relief didn't last for long, as he realize his _own_ mistake. He was unable to stop this incredibly large buildup of energy that was in the midst of exploding all around him. And he cried with the realization that once again his past has caught up to him. As if someone had pushed the rewind button on the remote to watch the same scene of tragedy unfold again. Frank felt hopeless at that moment, it was a hard thing to go through all over again just when just found his future. And all in the high of his happiness too.

With one last longing look towards Gerard shattered and mangled body, he breathed a sigh of ‘I love you, before closing his eyes and bracing himself for the impact.

The rapid pressure that had built pushed him straight out of the center of the very ugly mess of a scene. He left it all there in the middle as he flew through the air. His enhanced perception aiding him in looking around and finding solace of the slowly burning bodies of people caught in the middle of their walks. It was a beautiful show of fire and water. With the water droplets raining down still, but now, with how fast he was going, Frank can see each drop of water so clearly before it hit the ground in small tiny splashes. The singing skin of the people around them, the way their skins melted off in a bright flash of orange before everything turn dark and ashy was quite a sight.

He smiled. That was what they deserved Afterall. If he learned anything from Gerard's story is that inaction could be just as detrimental as any solid action. And these people didn't care, not enough to even chance a glance at them and so he was satisfied with the deaths of probably more than just a handful of people. A massacre all on his bloody hands.

He fell with a thud meters away from where the explosion originated, from where he was standing before. Somewhere under a bridge tunnel where every car was skewed and tilted to a halt, he stayed there forcibly calm. And he just laid there looking up at the grey concreate bridge above him that's protecting him from the rain beyond. And he reveled in yet another scene of misery that was caused by another one of his deadly mistakes.

"My bad". He whispered out into the air above him with a harsh bitter laugh before succumbing to the sweet release of unconsciousness. Seeing two figures in the corner of his eyes instead of the usual one.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by my most favorite song in this whole song fic, Stranger than earth by purity ring

_"We are stranger than earth, with the seasons misled_  
_Stronger than her moods_  
_When our parts parted, she bled and bled and bled_  
_I wasn't thinkin' 'bout you_  
_Again, again, again, I wasn't thinkin' 'bout you_  
_I wasn't, I wasn't"_

**Stranger Than Earth by Purity Ring**

*

It was the third, maybe fifth cup he's shot back that burned his throat on the way down. With the amount he has drank so far, he should feel numb right about now. He wasn’t. Every ache in his body felt like a reminder of what happened not too long ago, about how he lost everything in a practical blink of an eye. And about how the world kept moving on without him, like Gerard was just another blip in the time line.  
He felt like he was deliriously swaying on his feet despite having sat down for the past few hours.

Heart ache was a weird thing to feel when you can't seem to prosses it. Instead the soul source of numbness he can gain only came from a split-second denial, which was the first human response Frank could muster up at the end of the day. How strange that rollercoaster of a day had been.

Waking up that morning, he was probably the best he's ever been ever since Jepha. And now he's wallowing in some shitty bar somewhere midtown. Not downtown. No, he wanted to mingle with the hopefully hopeless cause, to feel better about his mistake that resulted in this misery.

It was pretty easy to get in. Despite looking three years younger than his actual age and often mistaken as the younger sibling in the family, Frank still had an ace up his sleeve. A little thing called dark magic.

Or at least that's what he's decided to call it. And it was oh so magical. He could do practically anything with a flick of the wrist and it'll happen. Anything but...

He took another sip of amber liquid, a different color than his last drink. Which is peculiar because he didn't remember asking for a new drink. Gulped it down anyways because who wouldn't in a situation like his.

People were eyeing him. Maybe they recognized him from somewhere or maybe he's just the prettiest white in the room full of silvers and a couple of greys. And oh, how transparent these greys were being, eyeing everyone that bumped into them like they’d start throwing hands. Frank can see the same warry faces in all of them like he seen them in Gerard’s. They were right to be scared. .

Someone bumped into Frank not all too subtly and he looked up smiling.

"Oh...didn't see you there." And wow, what a colorful line that is. "So, you here alone?"

Frank smiled, he'll play, he's got nothing else to do. Looking him up and down was guy wearing a too tight suit jacket that looks legit enough to have been made for the upper class but a glance at his shoes shows otherwise. A fake then. "I don't see anyone else here." He shot sickly sweet with just a hint of seduction.

"Well I guess it's just you and me, huh?" He slid next to Frank, hand resting on his upper thigh.

Frank shot a quick smirk. Oh, how the guy would react if he knew Frank was under age – and a grey.  
A realization hit him as the alcohol settled deep in his stomach. He probably doesn't care if he's underage. And that just made things a bit more fun.

He shot back what he thinks is vodka and batted the other's hand away. He leaned in and started rubbing up and down the guy's suit jacket, biting at his ears and giggling. "Why don't you come with me to the bathroom." He whispered.

And the guy didn't object as Frank took his hand and led him to the men's room.

Everything was dirty and disgusting. The first hand that shot towards Frank went straight under the skirt of his mini cocktail dress and went up to reach his delicate areas. And Frank just went with it, biting licking and groaning as the guy hitched his legs up to rest at his hips. Grinding and moaning.  
Somewhere in the corner of his eyes, he saw two ghosts standing there, looking at him disappointedly.  
It doesn’t matter, they left anyways.

The guy went for his throat effectively concealing his face there. And Frank got a look at himself in the mirror and it was not pretty. Eyes pitched black, sharp teeth bared, a mirrored image of the beast inside of him staring right back at him, smiling surprisingly serene.

The guy pulled his head up at that moment and saw the monstrosity that had rearranged himself from the tiny beauty it was before. He fell to the dingy bathroom floor and Frank took a step. The other crawled back. And another step. And the other crawled back.

Until the guy hit the door and Frank leaned in to lock it.

"Wh –“

"Shut up!"

And from the outside, the loud thumping base on the dance floor, he click clacks of high heels dancing to a rhythm they made up in their heads and the rambling of drunken old men, filled the space in between silence until there was no room left for anything to be heard. And the screams of a young man were drowned out until it died in his throat.

Frankie stood back, admiring his red dress in the mirror. Smiling at his handy work as he washes his hands off the blood that he'd sucked dry from the shell of a man somewhere behind him.

He had carved through the cage of bones to reach the man's cold beating heart. Ripping it out with quick succession before swallowing it whole. It was the first ever thing that he'd consumed since the second tragedy that had sated the hunger in his belly. And he found himself licking his lips in the mirror wanting some more.

He walked back to the dead thing behind him, kicking the body lightly and watching it fell with a thump. He giggled at the funny sound and went back out and towards home. Thinking that maybe he should buy a new white dress.

*

Back at home wasn't any better. He never told his family about the blast or that he was there when it happened. Let alone telling them he was the cause of it.

Jake has been, of course, quite vocal about the whole situation. Rambling on like a lawyer in court that was trying to defend a guilty party. Frank's mom and dad only nodding at their princess' future husband and how knowledgeable he is.

Oh if they know which grey was behind the blast, that would be quite a spectacle of a reaction.

It didn't help that every time the news feed was played he got flash backs to that day and the contents of it all. Playing in his head like a fucked up personal movie theater of just that day. Despite the footage being murky and grainy because it was filmed several blocks away.

And if he just closed his eyes, he could still see the explosion happening in slow agonizing seconds. Where he was flung through the air until he was far enough away that he had to walked on shaky feet back towards the center.

And walked he did.

He woke up with soot and ashes staining his face, no doubt from the singed body all around him. A circumference full of death and destruction that encompassed his surroundings fully. He sat up with unsteady hands, coughing and hacking up blood, but he didn't pay much attention to it.

Instead he stood on shaky feet, mirroring the motion of a newborn baby deer as he walk straight ahead. Dust floated everywhere and the sky was grey, not even the strong moonlight could shine through to guide his path. It was lucky enough that the whole city's fuse didn't blow and there was enough artificial light to illuminate his way.

Several feet deep he saw a few electric poles bent in all different sizes and cars melting at the seams. Like something out of a surrealism painting.

He looked back focus towards his path and the back of his mind he hoped that it was just another dream. That the soreness on his feet was just a ghost of the actual thing that he would feel if he was conscious. And the rivulets of tears streaming down his face was only wet because he was sweating in bed right now

Looking down he saw the drips of his tears leaving a stain on the dusty concrete, like little breadcrumbs for him to follow back once it's done. He was shivering and he pulled his ripped up jacket tighter around himself, vaguely smelling tendrils of smoke and body wash. And the tiny piece of the aroma just brought him back to that morning.

The one he hoped he was still in. Like he hopes the heat that he suddenly felt was the sun shining through Gerard's basement window to come and awoke him from slumber. And he just told himself that the pile of burning bodies was just how his mind copes for not wanting to wake up just yet. And later on, when he does wake, Gerard would pull his small shivering body to his chest and asked what the nightmare was about. And Frank would sob out the story whilst pausing for a laugh break because he was just fucked up.

A small bitter laugh ripped out of his mouth and it felt so naturally sane on his tongue. So, he did again.

He was pretty sure if anyone in the vicinity was still alive then they would look at him weird. A kid laughing and crying walking on barefoot towards the center of the blast. He would get institutionalized in a second.

He reached the center. There was nothing but desolate place but he knows he's reached the center because there, buried beneath a pile of ash and rubble was Gerard's heart.

For a split-second Frank thought that the heart was still hole, still beating so he went and picked it up. The surface was smooth, a glass heart looking like the best piece of ruby in the universe. It was beating was his thought then. Before he realizes that the pounding was behind his eyes and the red was boosted by the blood that dripped from his forehead and down to cover his face. With a quick turn of the heart, Frank found a small chip not enough to notice at first glance but enough to know that the heart wasn't working anymore.

Frank fell to his feet, buried his head in the mound of ashes as he cry. Wracking sobs that he felt he got over the last time. He shouted his throat raw and his mind kept replaying the words _not again not again not again...wake up!!_ but he never did.

And he had to gather himself quickly enough before the authorities got there. Weaving his way through the dark alleys of the city to reach Gerard's home. A place where he once belonged, still clutching to the glass heart so tight that it cut right through his palms.

He admired the blood dripping there for a while. And he wanted to drink it. Suck it dry.

He woke up with a gasp. His forehead sweating bullets, stinging his eyes. He thought that it was a dream only to found he was in his king size bed and not Gerard's comfortably warm one.

He went to the bathroom, running his hand under the cold stream of sink water until his fingers shrivel up. He splashes some water on to his face and looked in the mirror.

What have he done? What have he become?

He hadn't decided yet. And maybe he should start by going back to the club.

*

The new club that he chose to stay in was deafeningly loud. The music pounding it's way through his ears and gripping his hand by its fist and just pumping. Blood was rushing faster through his veins and he hadn't had a single drop of alcohol yet.

He sat down on a chair near the bar, perfectly center towards the dancefloor of the bar. It was bigger than the previous club. And the green and blue lights were a predominant color of this bar and he found himself hating it compared to the red of the previous one. "Beer!" He said hailing the bartender who nodded and went to get his drink, slinging the towel he had used to clean the bar on his shoulders.

The drink came soon enough and he found himself not in an appetite to get drunk of his mind. Instead he wanted to remain calm and vigilant, seizing eyes of the people that looked at him so he could know where to start his murder spree.

A thrill went down his spine alongside the quite nasty beer and it settled in his gut. Creating an amalgamation of sensations that mimic a buzz one would get for sticking their tongue in an electrical socket and not dying. He smiled, to himself behind the neck of his bottle. He was off his rockers, there was no need to be drunk.

He left the beer at the bar and started walking around aimlessly. It was an oddly calm gesture for someone in a club. But he wanted to know what his final plan would be. How many lives would he take that night? In what way would he torment them this time? Where would he do it? What kind of mood lighting did he want?

He saw the DJ and figured he'd knock one task out of the way. His walk was elegant and precise. If it weren't for the fact of the bless and a curse, he has for a baby face then people would assume that she was some sort of high-class lady who goes around sleeping for the right kind of man. Or the right kind of money. And the DJ heard him before he got there expecting that very same fantasy to be standing in front of him instead of someone short young and obviously too young.

The DJ slid one ear out of his headphones and leaned across his set up. "Can I help you?" He said incredulously. He thought the kid was probably lost or something or had snuck in with a couple friend to impress them.

"Yes." Frank smiled, hands behind his back and swaying in a mock caricature of an innocent girl. "Can you help me?" He whined and the DJ rolled his eyes.

"Look kid, doors that way." He pointed somewhere to the right of him before going back to turning nobs and pushing buttons, ignoring the child in front of him.

Frank didn't like that. He leaned in superhumanly quick to grab at the DJ’s throat, making sure to squeeze until he heard a crack. A few people were looking and Frank made sure to look back until he wiped their minds blank of all thought before getting back to the choking victim in his hand.

He bend down closer towards the DJ’s ear. "I said-" His voice layered high and low pitched, sounding like something out of a horror movie. "Can you help me?" A long thin strip of dancing shadows fell from Frank's mouth and into the guy's ears. His eyes glazed over with Frank's words and he nodded ever so slowly. "Good." Frank whispered once before letting go.

Almost immediately the lights changed from it's previous refreshing blue and green color into the color of rich and deep blood. Filtering through the mindlessly dancing crowd and filling the spaces where the darkness doesn’t touch.

XNow that's mood lighting. He thought, hopping back down.

The song that was played next didn't resemble the ones that played before. Just like the lights, the music had to match the mood. And the previous thumping beat of a somewhat jovial and heart pumping song was quickly replaced by thrumming base of an electric guitar that was too distorted to recognized. Accompanied by screaming vocal that ran through pitched correction enough time to make it sound so warped. A glittery melody accompanying the whole sound that somehow matched the dark lyrics that the singer was shouting out. From a regular dance song fit for a mindless night out to a hardcore EDM song fit for a murder.

Fit. For. A. Massacre.

Frank shot his hand out to grab a hand, any hand, before pulling it with too much force than someone like him should had. The guy was stoned, the smell of weed seeping it's way out of his half parted mouth. And what Frank wouldn't do to hit a joint right now. But he'll settle with tasting it straight out of the guy's mouth instead. Not like he cared.

The guy kept dancing like there was nothing obstructing his movement. His hand fell to Frank's waist easily enough that they could move a long side the beat as one unit. And Frank swayed and swayed. Lips still locked tight against the others. He didn't taste that bad.

He tasted like a lifetime of stories that Frank could sat through hearing without getting bored. Tasted like history and memories gathered and bundled up in a book that he could read if he just sat down and took the time to. Tasted like a future full of distorted faces and empty spaces that was not filled yet and full of so much potential. A half-baked cookie. A half-written book. A half-drawn picture. And Frank wanted to taste more.

So he started to suck. And suck.

He could feel how the guy's eyes had shot open. His lips being vacuumed right into another person's mouth. His lungs constricting with the suction as his air was dragged right out of there. Like he was a blunt to be inhaled.

Tears swelled in his eyes as his insides shifted to accommodate the gradually emptied out spaces in his body. And organs started to burst with the pressure. Filling up his whole chest with blood. And he swore he could feel his heart literally stuck in his throat.

Frank took the time to open his eyes and giggled at his newly found victim's expression. The confused and pained contorted face that he showed. Frank found it quite appetizing and sought to consume more.

The guy choked on his on tongue trying to stop his heart from escaping through his mouth. He was painfully aware of the impossibility of the situation. Even if these things are happening, he shouldn't still be awake right now. Or maybe he was just overexaggerating. His mind making up unlikely scenarios from his over active imagination and oversaturated drug addled brain. One thing was clear. It still hurt.

Frank sucked, hard. Wanted to taste the guy's heart on his tongue before letting go. His gut started clenching with the efforts and the wisps of shadow that shrouded them glided to aid Frank in his efforts.

Before long there was a sound like a pop that had the guy dropping down to the floor.

Frank held his heart in his hand, his face covered in residual blood. Everyone was to busy with their own serotonin induced high to even looked at the guy that just dropped dead.

Frank took a bite out of the heart and it squirted some blood onto his already red sequenced dress. He smiled at the new addition to the dress despite it being practically invisible there. Blending in with it's original colors. And Frank's glad that he bought the new dress.

He stepped over the guy's rapidly cooling body to get to the bathroom. No one even glanced at him twice as he ate the heart like and apple.

Stumbling into the bathroom, there was a few stalls occupied. A vague sound of groans and moans dancing it's way through Frank's ears and he ignore it. Gunning for the sink instead after finishing his last bite of heart. Washing his hands under the stream of steady yellow water and grimacing at how gross it is. Like the blood on his hands wasn't gross enough.

Glancing at the mirror Frank found himself looking better than ever. His cheeks were flushed red and the sweat that covered his neck was making him glow like some sort of omnipotent being. He chuckled at the notion. He was one.

The two sexed out partners went stumbling out of the stall, looking disheveled like anyone in their situation would. The girl's dress had ridden up her thighs and her white silk panties were tilted on one side. The man still had his belt unbuckled and his pants unzipped. They were both panting giving off their post orgasmic scent that mingle with the putrid air of the room.

They haven't noticed the young teenager washing off their victim's blood in the sink yet. But Frank had noticed them, black beady eyes staring steadily at his next victim.

"Well you two fucked loud. Was it good at least?" He asked, head bent and focused on the steady stream of water.

"Yeah the best." The guy said chuckling breathlessly, sounding affronted at the question. He turned towards his little girlfriend and leaned in towards her neck. "Freak." He whispered.

"Yeah, I've been told that." Frank giggled, voice on the edge of mania. "Any of you got a light?" He asked still not looking, not turning around.

The girl couldn't stop giggling through her pearly white teeth. She slapped her partner's chest, feeling up his breast pocket before recovering a light. Her boyfriend's hand shot straight out grabbing her wrists. A noise of protest in the back of his throat. But she just kept giggling shaking her head, putting her fingers up to his mouth and sushing loud enough for Frank to hear. Before throwing the lighter weakly towards Frank where it fell with a clink just behind Frank's heel.

Frank slid his feet behind the lighter and pushed it forward with the front tip of his shoes before bending down and taking it. "Thanks."

"No probs." The girl slurred out. The two-couple waited for Frank to produce a pack of something or maybe a spoon and a baggie but Frank didn't do anything.

Frank stood there, clutching the lighter in his hand and flipping it a couple of times. Admiring the ornate metal carving on the side of it. He flicked it open and watched the small flame dance and light the small space that was shadowed by Frank's body. He flicked it close and open a couple of times.

The man behind him had started to get impatient. Tapping his foot like he's waiting for his take outs to be done. He thought for sure that Frank was high of something and he regretted letting his girl threw his favorite lighter towards him. "Hey!" He shouted unnecessarily.

"Ssh...babe, quit being so loud." The girl wined from next to him, covering her ears and blinking up blearily at the light. "Fuck so bright." She squealed.

The guy shook the girl away from clutching his forearms tightly. And she swayed before hitting her back on the wall painfully loud. The guy didn't seem to care. Instead he stomped forward towards Frank. His hands shot to his small forearm and yanking it harshly enough to turn Frank's body. "Hey, d'you hear me?!" He shouted, his breathe smelling like acid and toxic waste.

Frank was still not looking up, engrossed at looking at the red _red_ tips of his toes. He flicked the light open again just to watch it dance before leaning in slowly towards the guy, holding up the flames before closing it.

The guy went to grab it when Frank flicked it open and the guy winced backwards, the palm of his hands singed by the action. He clutched his hand to his chest. "You little freak!!" He shouted swinging a hand at Frank but he dodged it easily enough.

"Yeah..." Frank said repeating the line of the day, looking up ever so slowly. "I've been told that."

The dark filled eyes that Frank wore proudly stood out almost immediately. The girl shrieked loud enough for someone to hear but Frank didn't care at this point. He twists his hand in the air and the shadows locked the door for him. Stepping forward one foot at a time until he backed the couple up into the corner.

The girl was visibly shaking and Frank swung his hand in the air quick enough that a whooshing sound was heard to their ears reverberating with the acoustics of the room. The reaction came late and before long a thin opening around the girl's lower stomach released the contents of her insides until it was her outsides. In a long stream of hanging guts. The girl fell to the floor with a thump. Eyes blank and mouth hanging opened.

The guy was the one who screamed this time, loud and in short burst that annoyed Frank down to the core. With quick hands he swiped inside the guy's mouth and ripped out his tongue with squelching sound. And stuff it right back into the guy's mouth, closing it with his palms. "Swallow it." He said as the guy struggle against his hold. "Swallow. It." He hissed louder until the guy did as was told.

"Good boy...now swallow that." He said pointing to the girl's guts all sprawled out on the dirty bathroom tiles. The guy shook his head protest, sobbing and hiccupping from the pain in his mouth.

Frank moved forward, eyes going impossibly darker. "Don't make me tell you again." His voice in the edge of fury. And the guy scrambled to his knees to eat the mess of guts of the floor, silently wondering why Frank was doing this but didn't have the member to say it anymore.

The first bite that he took yielded nothing as the fleshy organ didn't budge under his human teeth, only bouncing back like a demented spring. But he kept chewing anyway to appease the devil incarnate and silently thanking god for not having a tongue to taste it.

Frank walked away, not that he didn't enjoy the view, but because it was getting boring. He paced the small space of the bathroom seeing the handle jiggle a couple of times since he locked it. "You know you were in her a few minutes ago." He started out of nowhere. "Wouldn't it be fucked up if I told you to fuck her now." And the guy sobbed loudly.

"Yeah..." Frank turned around and kneeled in front of the pathetic man. Clutching his jaw tight and tightening still until it cracked open. "You're not gonna swallow that shit if you don't _open your mouth._ " And how generous it was of Frank to help stuff his mouth full of guts until he was choking with it. "Good?" He asked not expecting and answer as the guy claw at his throat and fell to the ground.

Frank stood up brushing his dress. "That good, huh?" he says, glimpsing an apparition in the mirror and seeing a thing that made himself jump out of his anger tirade. Unlocking the door, he went back to the dance floor. He had a quest to fulfill and he was not about to let the ghost of the past stop him.

*

He danced his way through the throngs of zombies and wiggled his hip to the beat. A new song had come on since he left it but the feel was still the same. And he reveled and bloomed under the sensation.

He grabbed, he pierced, he jabbed a couple of people until several bodies were left being stomped on the dance floor. It was a wonderful sight to see. And Frank felt rejuvenated with each kill.

He was having a time of his life until a loud shrieked pierce through his ears making it skipped a beat. At first, he thought, _here_ we go, and was ready to book it before anyone else investigate further on the body. But no one seems to have heard the loud noise so Frank went to the side to investigate. And a loud shriek came as if to guide him once more.

What he found was an ugly sight. A man was bending a girl in half on the table. She was being held down by several other men. From the looks of it she was no older than him and the men looked more than twice her age. He was just having his way with her, hips moving and jutting sending glass after glass of to the table with a crash. His friend's member's all out on display and Frank looked around to see no one caring. There was blood there, Frank could smell it, seeping down her thighs and down to her feet with each crude motion.

He wanted to walk away, why should he care? Everyone here are dying tonight one way or another. And he turned ready to run only to be halted again when he noticed something strange. And odd protrusion jutting out of her back covered in soft white downy feather. It all clicked in his head and he finally realized what the girl was. And he was angry. Oh, so angry.

The blinking of the lights switching his visions and he saw Gerard being held down instead of the girl a couple of time. His head was spinning, suddenly he didn't feel too good. He looked around the slowly closing in space and saw the bodies that he had left lying motionless on the dancefloor. And as the light flickered, he saw a dancefloor full of Jepha's motionless body and pieces of Gerard scattered in between.

He was hyperventilating, his heart beating a mile a minute and he saw spots behind his eyelids where he squeezed them tight. He felt like crying as death caught up to him and gripped his throat. He went down on his knees covering his ears, people around him still going about their day like his action was the most normal thing in the world.

The words were building inside his stomach, bubbling it's way up to his throat before he shrieked. Loud.

And everything came to a stop as light burst off of it's socket and shards of glass flew down to the people's eyes. Shouts erupting through the room as they all ran like headless chickens.

Frank gulped and gathered himself of the floor. Shooting his hand out and just grabbing victim after victim to sink his teeth and nails into until there was nothing left.

He quickly turned to the men still engrossed in their disgusting activity. And she tapped one of the men's shoulder only to punch right through his chest right after he turned. He poked a few eyes out and cut each of the men's member. Scratching and clawing, kicking and punching, spitting words that didn't even make sense to his ears. And the men all went down to the floor and the girl was left there cowering.

Frank was about to walk away before he heard. "Thanks." Frank froze in his spot; he didn’t know why that felt like such a catharsis to him more than all the killings did. This was hard to convey with any gesture though, so Frank simply nodded.

"You know you should go, run as far away as you can." Frank didn’t really want the girl to get caught up in all of this. It was weird, he had no remorse for the other people even though they may not have enough sins in their bags to warrant such a cruel way to go. Maybe it was the fact she, out of all the people in the room, reminded him so much of Gerard and that cracked his bleeding heart a little bit.

The girl shook in her spot before staying still, like a deer caught in headlights. She then stood up abruptly and did as was told, legs slipping a few times from the pain she had probably endured. It was quite a pitiful sight to see, someone clearly struggling to keep her head above water after what she saw. Probably someone who’s scarred for life.  
It doesn’t much matter though, what’s done is done.

Frank turned towards the dancefloor, glancing at his canvas one last time. He felt his hands twitching at his side like the sight of dancing people all milling about, having a life with no meaning spent so poorly in this boxed up building, triggered something in him. Like a somehow more fucked up version of the Pavlov effect. He was surprised his mouth didn’t salivate.  
He quickly got to work by locking the entrance so that no one could escape. He spread his hands up high in the air and started dancing.  
The way his hips jutted to the side with each sway of it knocked the wind out of some people – literally. Everyone danced to the motion for a while, going about their day like nothing was going on. But then Frank can feel it, the way his energy was starting to attract the people around him. The way it hit some of them square on the jaw and left them winded from the impact. Like invisible strings, strong and thin that cut through the spaces in between the people dancing. Wrapping itself around each and every one of them, constricting ever so slightly under Frank’s command.  
Frank can kill them with one fell swoop, but that’d be no fun.  
Frank laugh, the sound ringing through the loud thumping music. It supplanted itself into everyone’s psyche and left them all shaking on their spot. Terror dripped down their spine as a feeling of absolute fear overcome them. And this is when Frank starts to dance with fervor.  
His hands drawing the line of his body, accentuating every curve, every dip that his beautiful body possess. It came up high and ended in a whipping motion. The way his hands flew made people flung around across the room under the command of his motion. A few bodies were ripped from their position firm on the ground. The impacts on the wall made a bone crushing noise that sounded so satisfying to Frank’s ears. It made him crave more.  
Frank danced to the sound of the destruction around him, wishing he had found such solace in the wake of his lovers’ death.

So with nothing else in mind, he kept flinging his hands at the people around and watched them crash to the wall. Wanting something more he lit the curtains on fire after setting a few people aflame first. And the whole room soon became the embodiment of chaos. Frank revel at his success and smelled the air that wafted a strong smell of death. Inhaling their souls and keeping it inside him for fuel for destruction later.

With a clap and a giddy hop, he happily walked home ignoring the ghosts that followed behind him.


	6. Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last one, inspired by Halseys's Control.

_"I'm bigger than my body I'm colder than this home_  
_I'm meaner than my demons_  
_I'm bigger than these bones_  
_And all the kids cried out, 'Please stop, you're scaring me'_  
_I can't help this awful energy_  
_God damn right, you should be scared of me_  
_Who is in control?"_

**Control by Halsey**

*

The whole house was shrouded in darkness. Frank had come home, not late at night, but in fact too early in the morning. Early enough that the sun hadn't even peaked it's burning bright edges through the horizon and the world he stood on was still encapsulated in pitch black skies. Maybe as black as his eyes

During the journey home, Frank did a lot of thinking. Thinking was the words he was going to use to refer what he did in his head. He's not all that exited to note that what his mind was doing was breaking his sanity. 'Thinking', the words feels scholarly on his tongue, unlike the mental institution triggering words that the facts would use to describe his state of mind. His state of being. What he has done was just another thing in his life. He _liberated_ those people at the club from their incredibly mundane physical form. _yes, that's it_. because thinking even of the other option to describe what he did makes him on the edge of hysteria. Yes, _liberated_

So he did a lot of thinking.’ Why’, was the main culprit word that ran through his head the most. The word encompasses so much things that he wanted to asks himself. It seems incredibly insane to ask yourself a question, but Frank knows that he had gone past insane a millennia ago. Now he's concerning himself with either forgetting the things that had happen or justifying it, no matter how morbidly dark it was. And the word 'why' is an incredibly helpful tool to do the latter part, Asking himself why would he do such a thing. Grief? He did fester in his own guilt for months on end even before Gerard. And when it comes to Gerard, it was safe to say he felt enough. He didn't want any more pain, he didn't need another reminder of his failures. But as to why he had done it. He asked his other self, sitting in a small white padded sell on the opposite corner of him, the corner that was covered in shadows. That him said nothing to the other, but somehow Frank knows the answer to that question. To all his questions.

It wasn't a sort of stark clear answer that had a shape and a form, air even seems more solid than the answer he had swimming around in his head. Not the kind he could choose to put into words if he so desires, but rather the kind that was all encompassing, a cure all if you will. That takes over his body and settled deep in his heart, sticking to every crevice like inky black tar. It was hard to clean out. The one that pushed and bordered on insanity, like a sort of illusion where the answer would disappear if he directly looks at it. Just stuck meandering in the corner of his eyes like the ghosts of his past that still lingers even after so much time has gone by. But, then again, not that much time has really gone by.

He never looked, not once on his walk back. But he did leave a trail of tears from the crime scene back to his house and he briefly wondered if the cops would find him through that. Somehow, he doubts it but one could hope.

And as he took his first step on the linoleum floor of his house, all the shadows had crept from his edges and settled elsewhere. His whole body felt lighter with the fading of the demon inside him but at the same time his heart was weighing him down with each step. Quietly and silently he wondered if the creature beside him had settled deep into his heart and was lying dormant for now. He didn't much care, he'll take the small relief it gave him.

He went upstairs through the spiraling ornate staircase of his home and led himself to his room. There were mirrors lining the path of the hallways and he never once looked towards it, afraid of what he would see. And the little smoke of darkness that glazed over his eyes that he saw from the corner felt like a nightmarish hallucination. And not for the first time that day, not even that month, did he begged himself to wake up.

He walked towards his bathroom. A single bathtub filled to the brim with cold water, the one he would plunge himself in at night. The one where he had input his regular bathroom schedule so wherever he may be or might have gone he would always come home to his awaiting self-induced punishment as always.

Well fuck that.

He looked his reflection on the slightly wavy surfaced, blurred and unrecognizable just like how he feels. He grabbed passed it, ignoring the flickering madness that showed through his eyes and took the plug at hand and ripped it right out with a soft 'pop'. He watched the water fizzled down in a spiral towards the drain. Once it was all over, he finally jumped in and turn the water. Warm, to celebrate. Hot to turn.

As the beating of the hot steaming water rained down on him, he quickly, for just a bit, recounted the days event. This why he liked showers, he couldn't see his tears dropping in small rivulets onto the surface water of the bath and rippling it's way through the edge of the tub. With the showers he couldn't tell the difference between the water and his tears and he doesn't have to torture himself. He doesn't want to anymore because the world has gone and beat itself over his head ten times over now.

But that's the thing with the word _want._ It's not what he _needs._

The bed felt warm and soft underneath him and his ceiling served as a great blank slate for him to stare at and feel every inch of his insomnia. Somewhere underneath his cold unmoving demeanor there was a war waging silently in his heart. This was a great war he assumed; one he can choose to do directly influenced the winner. It's just not fair that he only gets to sit on the sidelines when it comes to this so called beautiful war. It's incredibly destructive, the force that it emits in his psyche. So powerful in fact that he feels his resolved wavering, crumbling down at and incredible pace. He's dying in front of his eyes and he didn't much care.

Somewhere in the back of his mind someone's screaming. Telling him that it's not too late, that there is redemption if he just seeks.

So without anything to do, he found himself casually sitting back up to roam the house in his night clothes. He'd go to the TV room maybe. Sure, he could've watched something in his room, but the chill atmosphere in a room designated for television is something that Frank had always found enticing. With a small nod to himself he shifted his foot to go towards the TV room.

There was a soft glow being emitted from the room that indicated to Frank that someone was in there. He briefly thought about heading back, not wanting to talk to anyone who might've had questions and inquiries that'll led him towards his impending mental break, but he wanted to see at least if there is someone inside.

Getting closer towards the opening, he heard soft snores coming from the room and instantly recognized it belonging to his father. He was probably fast asleep and if anyone knew his dad, they’d know that he could sleep like a log even well after his routine morning wake up call. He wasn't worried and so he went it.

True to his prediction there was his dad fast asleep, his head lulled to the side with a small plate of food on his lap that was half finished and a fork and knife in his respective hands. Of course he would fall asleep in the middle of eating what was probably his secret second serving of dinner. A fond feeling settled inside Frank's heart at how familiar his dad’s behavior was.

He sat gingerly on the sofa next to his dad and looked towards the screen. His heart dropped. The soft smile he had bent his lips to shape dropped alongside it. And his eyes begin to water.

On the screen was the list of people the no name tyrant has killed. That was what they decided to call Frank in the absence of his real name. But it wasn't just the list of names from the ‘Gerard incident’, no, there has been a new list. This one filled with the names of the people who he had killed in the club. Complete with their said and subsequently cut short life stories.

Frank had the audacity to reach for the remote or say a command, anything. But he made the ultimate self-destructive decision to just stay silent and listen. Listen to the people's family who pleaded for him to turn himself in. Listen to cries of people who have lost their love ones. Listen to how he had ruined more lives than the ones he had taken.

It was polarizing. His eyes had started to released streams of tears and it clouded his visions. But he could see now how clear it was. The solution to everything then.

The solution to his heart ache, to his mistakes. Somewhere deep down he wonders to himself if he'd snapped. Or has he gone off the edge a long time ago. Maybe before he was born. But there was this little voice deep and resonating in his mind, whispering to someone else there about how they would take over. How he was weak, but he wasn't weak, the other was, but the other was him. How he could safe him and gave him repentance. Gave him a way out, but not him, the other him, who is him but not him and– 

There was a squelching noise somewhere next to him. He was aware that his body has changed position, no longer facing the screen, but instead to the left of him. There were droplets of crimson something on the TV room's stark white couch, intermingling with his previously shed tears. He sobbed; _it couldn't be._ Following the line of his body, the way his torso and arm muscles were contorted he dragged his eyes higher and higher until he reached the end. Where his hands and his small fingers gripped a small plastic thing harshly. The small plastic thing seems to be connected to something shiny, glinting in the darkness of the room but was marred by something dark and rusted. He followed his gaze to where the metal was hidden in between something much different from the other two material he saw, it was similar to the ones on covering hid body. And he quirked his head to the side and saw the lines of red that kept dribbling downwards. He perks his ears and a new noise came to light, one of choking and desperation.

There were bulging eyes, red rimmed and shocked. Frank gasped and lurched away, the knife in his hand falling to a soft thud, bouncing of the sofa and onto the carpeted ground. There was momentary silence between the two, both scared and confused. Frank stared until the last of the light had crept away from his father's eyes.

In a daze he fell to the ground, clutching at his heart, at his head and at his throat. Everything felt tight all around him, his vision are warped, his throat dry, and his mind deconstructed. Sobs after sobs fell away from his mouth. He didn't understand anything. Somewhere in between his odd behavior he had lost it and he wanted so bad to succumb to the figure guiding his hand towards the blade and whispering soft words whilst beating the ever living shit out of his other him. The one that crawled to the side of his mind all bloodied and bruised from a fight he couldn't possibly win on his own. And Frank tried to fight it, but then his hand was on something cold.

"Let's do this again shall we?" He loved his family. He does. _He does._

*

There was humming in the bathroom. The one main bathroom with the big mirrors as walls and the huge bathtub as its centerpiece. There was soft beautiful humming that sounded female and matured. Weaving and waving a melody to Frank's ears.

He pushed the doors slowly. Slow enough that not even a small creak faded in or out of the room with the motion. There he saw in the middle of the room. A large swimming pool like bathtub that hosted a stream of bubbles and his mother. His mother who had her eyes closed as she hummed to the song that was blasting directly into her ears.

Frank felt bile. Or is it the other him that did. Regardless the knife fell with a clang to the ground. He wanted to do this different. Or is it the other him that did.

His mother shifted with the sound, reluctantly sitting up from his spot in the bathtub. But Frank had shifted away and had gone to the other side of the room, hiding himself in between the shadows like he belonged there. His mother leaned in all the way; her half naked body decently covered with the gathering of bubbled across her chest. She was squinting to see where the noise came from and her eyes caught a sight of something glinting under the light.

Something sharp.

Something shiny.

Something red.

Someth–

She gasped, but not enough. Her head was under water, under such strong grip that she couldn't possibly think about getting out. Her eyes were filled with suds from her initial breaking of the surface water, but the clear water under had cleaned it so that her eyes were open wide. It was all blurry at first but then she saw a face, a figure. Rearranging itself into a vision of something. Something quite familiar to her.

"I love you mother." Her screams were drowned under two maybe three feet deep of water. Coming out in bubbles that rose its way to the surface before popping with a soft noise, a far cry from the shouts it came out from.

Frank saw the moment of recognition in her mother's eyes. There were mixed of emotions buried behind the predominant shock and plead in her eyes. Frank fought himself to not look away. To see the eyes grew dimmer and dimmer just like his father.

His mother struggled against his hold but no matter how much she kicked and screamed, there would be nothing that came out of it. Her son was too far gone to think about even a glimpse of weakness.

She was losing and he was winning. Tears had gone and hid itself in between the clear water below. And Frank with the last breath that he held to imitate his mother, saw the light finally giving out from his mother's eyes. And just like his father, he reveled in it.

He got up with a splash, his clothes were now colored with both small drops of crimson and greyed by huge puddles of water. He stood there looking down at her morbidly contorted face for a while. Seeing only an empty shell of a women who used to care for him and at the same time control him like he owed her the rest of his life.

There were a ghost of a feeling that accompanied the ghost in his mind and the ghost in the corner of the room who have been following him. He nodded to himself resolute, he wasn't done for the night.

*

"Frankie?" Her sister whisper was soft, without turning to look Frank knows that she's rubbing her eyes right now, some sort of stuff animal clutched in one of her arms.

He sighed. "Yeah?" He was still wet, dripping down dirty water onto the dimly lit hallway of the second floor. He was going through the house feeling dazed and conflicted. His mind never drifting too far from the incident not too long ago. It's like a tug of war was going on inside his head, one side visibly weaker than the other now Frank's action had shifted into one corner. A heavenly angel trying to survive in a hell that Frank had created.

"What is that?" She pointed shakily to his shirt. He was confused at first to what she was talking about. Maybe it was his regular comfort in having seen so much blood in so little time that made the color dull and less stood out than it did before. Or maybe it was the haze again clouding his judgement. Whatever it was it didn't matter now that he has seen the red lined streaks on him. It wasn't clear in the dimly lit hallway but Frank could imagine seeing it still.

Something snapped inside him once more. The dark plains of his mind tilting once again, forcing the hopeful part of him to be swallowed whole by the beast. He could feel tendrils of smokes and shadows seeping its way in and out of him. Ever so slowly he lifted his head up, almost hearing the creaks on his neck like rusted hinges finally moving.

"F-Frank?"

"Run."

She screamed and complied Frank having to chase her through the whole house. She looks flustered and scared, the two voices in his mind was conflicted on whether the sight was horribly gruesome or somewhat beautiful. Either way, his body has taken favor onto the latter as he continued to chase her.

The large house like mansion or maybe mansion like house felt eerily too big. As she weaves her way in and out of hallways neither of the two ever knew existed. It felt like a maze rearranging itself, reconstructing its structure to make a fair and plain game.

Frank grabbed numerous items that lined the expansively decorated wall. A picture frame, a decorative sword, a plaque, as he threw them towards her one by one. His hands kept searching the walls for new items to throw. His face formed into a sneer and manic like grin that he was aware could fit in any horror movie. He just can't seem to stop and he found himself not even wanting to.

His hand caught a rope; he doesn't know what kind and what for but it was lengthy and ropelike in nature so who cares. He started twisting, knots he was all too familiar with. The result of spending your days wallowing and contemplating suicide after killing his ex-boyfriend. In a blink of an eye there was a lasso in his hand.

She looked back, tripping on her feet sensing his oncoming attack. She fell to her knees near the railing of the second floor. Frank could see the ornate table of the entrance hall even from where he was as she screamed.

"Got you." He grabbed her arm and she struggle with all her tiny might. She was surprisingly strong but Frank was otherwordly and nothing she could do can stop him.

He quickly put the noose around her head as she kicks and punch at the air around her, begging for his big brother to let her go. Imploring his human side to come out, but Frank was two out of five now and he wants to tip the scale further.

"No! No!! No!!!" He lifted her lithe body high up in the air. He inhaled. He then threw her off the railing whilst still holding on tight to the other end of the rope. He exhaled. "No!! No-"

There was no choking noise to come for the other Frank to indulge himself in. It was a clean cut, bones snapping with the force of gravity. Her neck bent and protruded at an odd angle as Frank watch her small body swayed from side to side. The sight was almost beautiful enough to cover the fact she died quick and relatively painless.

He was not done yet.

*

There was two room to choose from. His brother and his other brother. One was crying, Frank could hear. And how sweet would it be to safe that one for last. How cruel and how slow he could take it since the other won't fight back. But then again, he wants them to fight back. He's not sure if it's his angel talking or what, but a struggle coming from his seems appealing. And the new and improved Frank do as he please.

The cries was getting louder. His cow of a brother wasn't even awake yet to hear the screams from both of his other siblings. The bastard was probably dosing of to dreams of a faraway land. How rude it would be to wake him.

"For fuck sake!" Frank grumbled and opened the door. "Shut up shut up shut up!!" His baby brother got some lungs on him.

He was done, he wanted to do this one quick. No, he didn't, but yes, he did. The small little toys that sang lullabies and comforting sounds was floating an inch above the sparkling blue eyes covered in tears. Trying its best to do its job and comfort the little one.

"That's right..." Frank hushed, stroking his baby brother's head comfortingly. "Sleep." He said and the other almost instantly did as was told. His little eyes closing for the last time. Ever.

"Sleep, sleep, sleep –“Frank chanted under his breath as he produces a small pillow from the corner of the room. "Sleep –“ he kept chanting, his mind going along with it.

There was a moment of hesitation when Frank held up the soft pillows just an inch above the little ones' face. Was he really about to do this? _No._ He flinched.

 _Yes_ and like a whiplash he pushed the pillow down on the too small face. Feeling through the linings and threads that made up the soft pillow to the breath being drawn rapidly with no avail. He could hear the tiny pounding on the other's chest, rapid and getting more and more rapid.

The struggle was light, almost nonexistent. Just like Frank's guess.

Frank could almost hear the small last  
intake of breath before the body went limp. Halted in its growth forever.

This was far from over.

It was so quiet. The chill in the air so low giving the whole house a steady hum beneath it. It was too quiet in fact, eerily so. But it was too late, once the hair on the back of his head stood up there was no time to react to the baseball bat swinging full speed at the side of his skull.

*

He was dead, either that or institutionalized. The walls were too white to be real and the small squared of room looked like something out of an asylum. Safe for the pads that lines the wall.

It was a remarkably unremarkable room. There he wasn't alone and that's when his intrigued sets in. The small tiny jittering figure looked almost too small to be a human. It looked broken, hunched over in itself. Its clothes torn to shred and skin marred with red angry lines. It was hurt.

The other side of the room held another presence. Within the shadows and darkness of wisps of billowing smoke, Frank was sure of it. He could feel it coiling itself to create a steadier figure. Solid enough to be something other than fog. Somehow though, Frank had a feeling that the smoke was stronger than the other figure.

"Don't let him win." Frank looked towards the hunched in figure, seeing all too familiar eyes imploring him of something. Something that he's not sure he could do. "Don't let him win." It whispered again, eyes shifting towards the dark figure on the opposite corner of the room.

There was a dark deep chuckle of layers upon layers of voice all pitched differently to make an amalgamation of morbid sounds. "But I already have." And Frank's whole body was wracked with shivers going up and down his spine. The shadows grew larger and larger.

"Wake up." The small figure whispered frantically, still not taking his eyes away from the shadows.

"What?" Frank asked, confused.

"Wake up!" The figure screamed and with realization Frank snap himself out of his mind, jolting awake on the ground. His head was thundering with pain and his neck hurt from the whiplash. His eyes were bleary as he went in and out of consciousness.

"He killed..."

"But do we..."

"Yes, ja..."

Was snippets of what he could hear as his head still throbs.

"We need to kill him."

"But he's my fiancé."

Jake was here, of course he was. But he doesn't mind. Deep down Frank knew that all the tragedies in his life was no one entity’s fault. Instead was a combination of poor lack of judgement with a dash of god like divine intervention. Doesn't mean he can't personify the blame onto someone. Someone like Jake, his fiancé. The person who in avertedly led him to the stairs.

"We should kill him. No one can know that he's a grey." There it is, cementing Frank's decision, the other reason why he's miserable. Society.

"No." He piped up as the others gasps pointing their rifles at him. He didn't saw that.

"Stay back." And just now Frank feels the bite of the rope clenching into his wrists. He didn't feel that either.

"No!" He asserted himself, louder now, he could sense the other was scared. With a light snap, the rope broke free of his wrists. The shadows aiding him in his endeavor.

He stepped forward slowly, lightly, his barefoot touching the cold tiled floor. Whimpers filled the room, of a brother and a lover who's afraid of the thing that they once knew. Their knees buckle under the weight of the pressure, teeth chattering with the cold death grip of fear. Their eyes watered with regret and unshed tears full of hopeless causes and sorrow.

Frank smiled down upon the cowering figures. "Run." He wanted to milk this out. He didn't acknowledge the part of him that pointed out he just gave himself time to change his mind.

The two boys scampered, all around the house. Frank was aware of the weight of the guns they held. It could kill him if they're lucky, even he cannot escape a flying bullet. But if he found them first...

"Where are you." His steps were erratic, he could feel it. He was still woozy from the bat he took to the side of his head. A stark reminder that he was still human. Still human.

"No!" He growled to himself. Thoughts were swimming in his head all dancing to the beat that contradicted each other's worth. He blinked once, twice and he was back in pursuit.

The hallways are dark with no light insight. It was smart of them to do so, to hide in the shadows. It would be smart if it weren't for the fact that Frank now lives in the shadow, it is him, an extension of him.

Somewhere down the hall to the left someone hissed and cursed. Frank reared his head like a sniffing dog and he just found blood. He followed it with loud banging footsteps.

"Shit." Another curse and the figure moved again. Running and panting, shifting position in the halls. By the time Frank got to the corner no one was there.

"Where are you?" Frank was well aware how detached and so unlike him the voice that came out of his mouth was. Foreign words on familiar tongue.

_Focus._

And he was back hunting.

Somewhere in between the darkness the two boys who had sat out a half-baked plan had finally recon verge, whispering to one another frantically.

"What are we gonna do?"

"We're gonna kill it."

"That's your brother."

"Not anymore." And the gun was cocked and the bullet was in, the other steadying his rifles.

"What do we do?" And a plan emerged where neither believed it'll work, but it's their only hope.

*

There was a series of whispers to the left of Frank. Honestly, he's been running around not really finding his objective, his subjects to inflict abject horror upon. He wasn't sure if he gave them time so they'd have a chance to foil him or if it was to toy them like a predator would to a prey. Nor does he like to think about it, his sanity was hanging on a knives edge and it'll plunge one way or another so what point is there for him to think about it.

"Come out..." He whispered sinisterly. There was no answer, not that expected one. But there wasn't a noise at all and that made him angry. "Come out!"

He was in the middle of a cross intersection between hallways, underneath a large chandelier. He looks around, eyes darting to each of the hallway expecting them to jump out with their foolish plan any second now. But there was nothing, no sound at all. Until...

"Now!" And the chandelier dropped right on top of him. He could feel the sharp shards of glass cutting its way through flesh and he shrieked. Clawing at the carpet frantically until his nails were bitten down by the rugs, blood and scratch mark permanently embedded on it. In between his frantic motion he could hear two sets of footsteps coming his way, followed by the sound of guns cocking.

For the first time in a few days he felt something that he hasn't felt in a long time. A negative feeling that surprisingly rarely come up in the tragedy epic of his life. And once again that night he was reminded by the stark reality. He's still human.

"No!!" He wailed and the bullets started raining down upon him. Blast after blast the bullets ripped through his skin, cutting through flesh and bone. He screamed in pain so loudly that the house shook with it.

The whole house was shaking.

The bullets stop. The guns weren't cocked and was pointed elsewhere as the two men standing above the trapped monster on the floor looked around at the reverberating walls.

"Is it an earthquake?" Jake asked, having to scream because of the rumbling and the screaming.

"I don't know." The voice sounded scared.

"Arggh!" And all to suddenly the two males where sent flying in opposite direction. Bodies pushed with extreme force like a gust of wind in a hail storm, only stronger, much stronger. Their whole body feeling like it was punched through with great strength. Until one was sent flying, crashing out a large plate glass window whilst the other slammed straight, skull opening from the impact, to the sturdy wall of that signify the end of the west wing.

Frank pushed his way out of the chandelier trap with strength that he didn't have three minutes ago, glass caught on his fingers and thighs whilst he untangle himself. He couldn't feel it though, he couldn't feel much of anything. Not pain, not even fatigue even after all that. All he feels is the hollow thumping in his chest, vaguely remembering that it has some sort of significant and human meaning to it.

He stepped out of the steel lining of the chandelier, his footprint that he left on the beige carpet marred with rusted blood. He kept walking. His eyes caught the mirror lining some of the walls and the two black eyes that stared back didn't seem foreign in the slightest. It felt like being home and at the same time being so far away he wasn't there at all. He's not even sure ‘he’ is the correct pronouns for him anymore. It seems incorrect now, unfit for a monster, a god like it. But ‘he’ will do for now.

It was clear that a part of him died under that chandelier.

*

He sat on his bed for what felt like hours. Or maybe mere seconds. He wasn't sure anymore. Time and space were a foreign concept to him now. He could hear the ticking tocks of his digital clock next to him, serving as a background noise to the fuzz that has covered his brain in haze.

He was aware that somewhere deep down inside him, someone was still fighting. But that someone was so small now that they might else well not exist at all. There was a tiny request coming from the back of his mind, one that compelled him to look around the room that the flesh the monster occupied had grown up in. And the monster, inhuman as it was, complied.

Somewhere downstairs there were small thumping of police boots, bringing in the swat team with them. They have found a lead and a quick tip of the person who was responsible for the recent devastations to the city. So, they were quick to act before the culprit was aware of their lead.

It was easy enough for them to get in, not even breaking down the large double doors as it creepily opened with a creak on its own. The sight that greeted them was atrocious and abhorrent, as the body of a young girl swayed and dangle from the rope.

"Fuck..." One of the officers whispered devastatingly under his breath. _What_ were they in for?

The track throughout the house wasn't something pleasant either. It's like a scavenger hunt full of bodies as the trail crumbs. The most gut-churning one being the bluing skin of a less than a month-old infant corpse. "Oh God." Bile was rising up.

It was well aware of all of this going on, still choosing to look around the room one last time. The sun was shining through the windows and the automatic blinds started to open as the light shine through and illuminated the room. Not that it needed that to see. He could see clearly now. Everything.

Everything.

The last place that its eyes fell upon was the small piece of paper tacked on the wall opposite his bed and he chuckled, it all felt oh so long ago. Beside it was the digital calendar he had sat up a few months prior, having the compulsion to do so at the time. And he chuckled at that too, finding humor in such a morbid thing. There it is, the full circle.

"Police open the door!"

Somewhere underneath all the layers of flesh held one singular consciousness who somehow didn't feel so bad anymore about what he had done in the last few days. Not anymore.

He knows what comes next.  
Today’s date: 03/22/2037.


End file.
